Catch the Thunder
by Wild Rhov
Summary: Freed has been frequenting a gay strip club to watch his favorite dancer, "Thor." One night, what started as a simple lap dance turned into much more, and Freed decides to figure out who this man with the electric blue eyes really is. Does he dare try to "catch the thunder"? Modern AU, BDSM.
1. The Thunder God

_A/N: I'll be honest, this was originally going to be about Natsu and Gray, but I have plenty of those fics. I've never written for Laxus and Freed before. I hope it's okay._

_**Modern AU.**_

_**Note**__: I hate math and didn't feel like converting money into Jewels. Consider this story to be based in America with USA currency. To my knowledge, these are the current going rates … you know, just in case you were ever curious about lap dances._

* * *

**Catch the Thunder**

a _Fairy Tail_ fanfic

by Rhov

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Chapter 1

**The Thunder God**

"I think I get it, Bob," Freed said as he stared at a red-lit stage. "I'm a masochist."

The bald bartender with too much makeup giggled at the confession. "Nothing wrong with being an M. I've seen your fencing matches on the tele. A swordsman like you takes pain well."

"Nah, not that type … I think," he added, really unsure what he thought about the kinkier aspects of sex. He never tried handcuffs and such, so Freed really was unsure if he would like that. "I'm the type who likes to be teased and denied."

"Well, that's why you're here," the cross-dressing bartender said cheerfully.

Freed just grunted. "Yeah. Here." The South Pole Club, a gay strip club, sitting with a bartender he knew by first name, waiting for a dancer whose real name he did not even know. "When will _he_ be on?"

"Second act, same as always," Bob replied.

"Second," the green-haired man grumbled.

He wanted his favorite stripper to be the opening act, but that coveted spot was only for the club's darling, a true professional named Ice Prince. That man made everyone else look terrible, but he riled up the crowd every time. The man Freed was waiting for was a polar opposite to Ice Prince. They called him Thor, probably due to the lightning-shaped scar that ran down his face and over one eye. It was a frightening scar, plus the man was a massive blond, more like a body builder than a stripper, and when the clothes came off, all of his tattoos made for a stunning visual. "Threatening Thor" was what some in the audience called him, but that was what made Freed fall for him.

Bob brought over another martini without even needing to be asked. He knew this regular customer that well. "You should request him this time. I don't think you've ever spoken a word to _Thor_."

Freed blushed a little. Oh yes, it was tempting, but … "I wouldn't even know what to say to him. I'd choke up, stare like some idiot, act like a totally smitten fool. No," he sighed, picking up the new drink. "Like I said, I'm a masochist. I'd rather watch him from afar. After all, lightning is beautiful when seen in the clouds, but terrifying when it strikes right in front of you."

Bob's jiggling face pouted until his cherry red lipstick looked like a blooming rose. "Oh dear! I really shouldn't say this. We're not supposed to push customers into something they don't want but … oh dear."

Freed took his eyes off the empty stage and looked back at the bartender. "What it is?"

"Well, you see … _Thor_ hasn't been doing well."

The green-haired man jolted. "What? Is he sick?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that at all. I mean work-wise. He's a good man, but his sort of personality appeals to only certain types of people, folks like yourself. Timid and masochistic, that's his pull. The thing is, those sorts also don't call on dancers for a personal session. The owner had some harsh words for Thor just yesterday. He said he'd better get at least one lap dance today or he's out."

Freed felt his heart drop. "They'd fire him? But he's good!"

"Talent and success aren't always hand in hand. Thor is a good man and a great dancer, but if he doesn't make this club money, Mr. Fernandes will show him to the door."

"Jellal Fernandes," Freed seethed.

He had seen the club owner plenty of times, coming out on stage to welcome good crowds, sometimes introducing if the club was having a theme for the day. He had a charming smile and either a tattoo or facial paint that really stuck out in some mystical sort of way, but there was something about the glint in his eyes. He looked at the crowd like looking at slaves that were moving to his will. Maybe that was a good comparison. The audience fell under Jellal's spell, enchanted by sex appeal and thumping music, driven to spend their hard-earned money on alcohol and lap dances.

"Bob," Freed said as softly as he could while still being heard. The bald bartender leaned in a bit closer. "What do I have to do to … um … to _request_ Thor?"

Bob looked like he pitied Freed. He had broken the rules, but he liked Thor. He was a good man. If they lost Thor, they lost Freed and many others who came to sit in their seats, squirming with unfulfilled desire, too shy to tuck away the dollar bills, but still buying up the booze.

Deftly, the obese man pulled out a card and explained how to fill it out, including just how much _attention_ Freed wanted. It was $10 standard, plus Bob explained that there were differences in _contact_. $10 was what he described as an _air dance_. No actual physical contact. $15 got a person one-way contact, but you had to keep your hands to yourself. $30 was two-way contact. Both dancer and receiver could touch one another. To splurge, he could get a private VIP room at $180 for half an hour of erotic dancing. Freed shook his head at that. He had money, but that seemed like too much for his first time. Also, Bob advised, he should tip the dancer. Some of that tip went to the manager to pay for costumes and makeup, but the rest went to the dancer himself. Strippers made most of their money in tips.

Freed filled out the card, blushing fiercely. Then he took his usual seat. His heart was pounding now, knowing he would finally get to talk with Thor. He drank a little faster until his head began to spin. He needed to slow down, breathe easier, and not make himself sick with anxiety. Thor's career was at stake!

The lights finally dimmed. Jellal came out to welcome everyone. A joke, a smarmy grin, and that glint in his eyes as he practically ordered everyone to "enjoy yourselves to the fullest." Then he moved aside, the stage curtain pulled back, music began, and the spotlight shined on the opening act: Ice Prince.

Freed had to admire this dancer. He was pure talent. He danced because stripping was something he loved to do. You could see it in the way he moved his body. This raven-haired rogue rallied the rabble, getting cheers and catcalls. His greatest talent was to tease, tease, tease, and then suddenly go from fully dressed to nothing but a thong in three seconds flat. It wowed every person there … everyone but Freed. What was so amazing about removing clothes that fast? He preferred more stripteasing to the dance.

Freed glanced around at the audience. There were regulars, himself included. He had given nicknames to most of them, just like the dancers on stage had nicknames to hide their true identity. As Ice Prince danced, the loudest hooter was "Pinkie," named because the kid (he looked barely old enough to be let inside) had bright pink hair. Really, could he scream "Hey look, I'm gay" any louder? Then there was "Beastman." Freed overheard his name was really Elfman, but he thought Beastman fit the hulking giant better. There was "Smelly," because the short gentleman with a super-firm chin always reeked of expensive perfume. Then there were some newcomers who had just begun frequenting the club within the past few weeks. Freed nicknamed them "The Dragon Twins" because they both wore the leather jackets of a biker gang with two black and white Asian dragons embroidered on the back. Really … gay men dressed in tight leather! One even had an earring and sometimes came in wearing a feathered boa. Could they get any more homosexually stereotyped?

Then … there was "Scarlet." In a bar full of gay men, _she_ stood out as brightly as her ruby-colored hair. Freed had been stunned the first time he saw her arrive, so much so that he had to ask Bob the bartender if Scarlet was really a woman or one hell of a cross-dresser. The bald Bob giggled and said she was "Mr. Fernandes's woman." Apparently, Scarlet had a kink for observing gay men, which her lover fed by letting her sit in what was otherwise a club exclusively for men. Freed also heard rumors amongst the staff that Scarlet was even further indulged privately by Jellal and his identical twin, Siegrain. Freed really did not want to think about just how this woman got her homosexual kicks through twin brother incest. He supposed Jellal preferred to let the woman get her fill inside the club rather than risking the career of his rather popular politician brother by having wild rumors fly around.

The music ended, the blue light that accented Ice Prince faded as the crowd cheered wildly. The raven-haired dancer slipped backstage, but in no time he was roaming the audience, immediately going to Pinkie's booth for a lap dance. Freed did not know what Pinkie did for a living, but he was loose with his money when it came to Ice Prince.

Watching the darling dancer take his seat and start to gyrate reminded Freed of what he had ordered. He blushed brightly, and once again his heart pounded rapidly.

When the lights changed from blue to yellow, Freed actually gasped. It was coming, as sure as thunder after a lightning strike. The music rumbled to reinforce that concept. Then suddenly, the lights went out, a strobe light flashed with the sound of a thunderclap, and when the yellow light was back on, Thor was on stage.

Freed's throat went dry. It was always a flashy entrance, but newcomers were initially a bit shocked by the large man. The yellow light highlighted golden hair and made his eyes appear orange. Freed often wondered what his real eye color was, but the yellow-orange gleam was predatory and thrilling. Scarlet especially squirmed under that hard gaze. Freed glared at her. If she was so intrigued, why didn't she buy a lap dance. Or maybe she was not allowed to, since this was a gay club.

Unlike nearly every other dancer, Thor rarely used the brass pole. He could _dance_. The pole was only to stabilize him if he slid down, his back resting on the pole, while his knees bent to the sides, showing off the crotch hidden behind leather trousers.

Damn, he looked hot in leather!

Freed stared and thought about how those legs would soon be around him, how that crotch would soon be rubbing against him, teasing him. Already, he was hard, and his breath came panting fast. Then slowly, teasingly, Thor began to unbutton his white shirt. It was not the fast stripping of Ice Prince, but deliberate, drawing out the painful anticipation with a sadistic smile on his face. Under that white shirt, black tattoos, like some sort of tribal design, curled around the bulging muscles.

Freed watched the muscles work as Thor did a routine that was more like graceful fighting than erotic dancing. Sometimes, he caught movements that were definitely Tai Chi, and other times the gyration of his hips was beyond breathtaking. When he did that, with that firm gaze reaching the whole audience, the crowd gave a collective gasp. He was the god of thunder on that stage, hammering at the groins of men.

Even slower were the trousers. He took almost a solid minute just caressing the belt out, pulling it slowly from the buckle, slithering it from the belt loops, until the whole belt was in his hands. He folded it together, and then snapped it. It gave the sound of a leather whip, and Freed moaned.

Fuck, maybe he really was a masochist. Getting whipped by this sexual beast would be pure joy.

Thor never actually took off his trousers, and Freed guessed they were too tight to do so easily. Instead, he undid the button and unzipped the fly. It was just enough to show to the audience that, indeed, he was wearing _nothing_ underneath. That happy trail went down, down, down, to a blond patch. The treasure was just below, hidden by black leather, a hint of a thick root nestled in those blond hairs, just enough to tease at a full monty without providing it.

Far too quickly, the song was over, the lights went out, the strobe light flashed like lightning again, and thunder rolled over the speakers. When the lights were back on, Thor was gone.

Freed was left breathless. His throat was dry, his hands sweaty, and his arousal was so painful, he was tempted to race off to the bathroom for a quick release. He would have, but there was one issue.

"Thor" was coming!

**Next Chapter: "Lap Dance"  
**


	2. Lap Dance

Chapter 2

**Lap Dance**

Freed gulped down his drink, hoping to calm himself. He did not even watch the next dancer. He knew which door the dancers slipped through on their way to lap dances. He stared at the door, waiting, anticipating his thunder god.

When the massive man turned the corner and walked out, Freed leaped. This was really happening! After months of sitting in the dark and watching, he would get a chance to see Thor up close. His chest jolted, like being shocked with electricity with each step of the blond.

Finally, Thor stood over him, glaring down. That scar on his eye stood out, and his gaze narrowed.

"Did you request me?"

Freed felt tiny under that stare. Mutely, he nodded. He worried that maybe this annoyed Thor. Maybe he thought this was just some sick pervert. He feared seeing a sneer of disgust from this man he admired so deeply.

Instead, Thor smirked, a chuckle rumbled in his chest, and he suddenly straddled Freed. The green-haired man stiffened in shock.

"Don't be scared," he said gently, but his eyes were still predatory. "I don't bite … unless you want it."

"Oh God," Freed moaned. His groin ached, but he steeled himself back.

The blond snorted a laugh, and then Thor's hips moved. Freed felt the friction of leather against his pants. The ache in his cock increased, burning, wanting more.

"You can touch," Thor told him. Freed was too enthralled to move. "Did you not want to touch? Or maybe…" Thor suddenly grabbed Freed's wrists, pinning him down, and leaned in close like a beast about to devour his prey. "Maybe you prefer to be restrained." His hips gave a sharp thrust up against Freed's crotch.

"Yes," he hissed, hardly knowing what he was doing.

Thor smirked and shook his head slightly. Freed wondered what that meant. Maybe all of Thor's clients were like this, masochists wanting to be dominated by the thunder god. Freed did not want to be just another person.

"C-can I … touch your chest?"

An eyebrow raised in amusement. "Feeling adventurous? Go ahead."

The blond released one hand, and Freed slowly lifted it. He ran his hand over the buff pectorals, smooth and waxed. Then he traced one of the tattoos.

"You're an interesting one," the dancer muttered.

Freed gazed up hopefully. Interesting? Was Thor interested?

"You have an interesting face," Thor said. "So scared, yet so aroused!" He thrust up again hard and gyrated his hips against Freed.

"Ahhh!" Freed cringed, shuddering. He was liking this too much.

"That's a nice sound," Thor purred. His hips swirled against Freed's body.

"W-Wait!"

"You wanted a full song, right?" He pressed even harder, stroking Freed's arousal mercilessly with his crotch.

"N-no … I … sh-sh-shit!"

Freed tried to pull away, but it was too late. He felt the release in his pants, his mind blanked out, and pleasure mixed with utter mortification.

Thor backed off the instant he realized the problem. He looked worried for his customer. He realized other patrons had looked over at the green-haired man's raised voice. He glared at them, silently telling them '_Fuck off!_' Then he knelt beside Freed and put a hand on his arm.

"Are you all right?"

"No!" Freed snapped.

He was humiliated! In front of this man! He yanked himself out of his chair and ran to the restroom. He could feel cum dripping with each step, and tears of shame came to his eyes.

He ran into a stall and yanked his pants down. It was a sticky mess. He held back sobs as he tried to wipe clean everything he could.

This was an issue. He knew that. He just never thought it would be a problem in public.

His beige cotton slacks were darkened where the moistness soaked through. It was way too obvious. Somehow, he would have to make it home with these ruined pants showing to the whole world that he was an idiot who came in his clothes.

He heard the restroom door open and heavy feet march in. "Greenie! You in here?"

"Oh crap," he muttered. It was Thor's voice. As if it wasn't bad enough humiliating himself in front of this god, did he really have to come and punish him more?

"Hey," he said softer, and knuckles rapped on Freed's stall. "I brought you clothes. Figured you'd need a change."

Gratitude gushed into Freed's heart. This god of thunder was actually caring for him! Slowly, he opened the door and peered out. Thor stood much taller than him. In his massive hands were neatly folded jeans and a pair of boxers.

"The jeans are prop clothes. They might be a bit big."

"And the boxers?" he asked, sniffling up tears still.

The large blond looked away, and Freed wondered if it was the lighting or if the man's cheeks really did turn pink. "They're mine. They'll definitely be too big for you, but it's better than commando, right?"

Freed's eyes widened. Thor's own underwear! It was Christmas!

"Don't look so damn happy," Thor snapped. "It was my fault. I'm just helping out a little."

Freed still grinned with excitement and took the offered clothes. He shut his stall again, gladly took off the messy cum-coated clothes, and slowly slid on Thor's boxers. Silk! They felt amazing against his skin. They were far too large, though, and began slipping down almost instantly. He pulled the jeans up. Those were almost a perfect fit, just too long in the legs. He wrapped his belt on to hold it all up, bunched up his messy pants and underwear to best hide the stains, and slowly opened the door. Thor was still there, leaning against the restroom wall, arms folded, staring in a piercing way.

"Hey, Greenie. So, they fit? That's good."

"I'm so sorry," Freed gushed out. "I messed it up, didn't I?"

"Your cum didn't get on me. Don't worry."

"I mean, the lap dance."

"Hey, you obviously enjoyed it," he shrugged. One eyebrow arched in amusement at this frantic man.

"I ruined it, though. It was supposed to be…" He broke off sharply.

Thor smirked wryly. "Supposed to be what? Perfect? Magical? Wasn't it? Your dick sure thought so."

"No, that's … I mean, it's a problem. I didn't think … Oh God, I'm so sorry."

"Ah, I see." He nodded thoughtfully. "I wasn't paying attention, I guess. Your face kind of distracted me."

"My … my face?"

"Never mind," Thor grumbled.

Freed felt a leap of hope. Thor liked his face! "I've been coming to this club just to watch you," he confessed in a rush. "I never thought I'd actually get to be this close. You're … you're a _god_, Thor!"

The blond cringed slightly. "I'm a fuckin' stripper. Gods don't do what I do for money."

"I still … I…" Freed was so flustered, his usually eloquent mind was in a frenzy. "Can I … get more time with you?"

"You could buy another lap dance."

"I mean … outside of here."

Now, Thor's whole face went shocked. "You?"

Freed lowered his head. Really, what the hell was he asking? "I'm really not sure what I can ask for, or what I have to do. I … I'm not _propositioning_ you," he insisted. "Just … maybe some time outside of work? Your choice. Doesn't have to be sex. Just … away from here." He desperately needed a change of scene after humiliating himself like that.

Thor considered it with a low hum. He eyed this young man up and down, debating something. Then he gave a weary sigh. "Why the hell not! I'm still working, but if you can stay until after closing, we can go somewhere. I wanna get my boxers back from you, anyway, and I have to return those jeans by the end of the week."

"Really?" Freed cried out, his eyes alight with stars.

"Sure, I know a little place that's private. We can do whatever you want."

The restroom doors burst open, and Ice Prince entered. "There you are, _Thor_. Jellal is searching for you. That lap dance…"

Thor cleared his throat loudly, and the raven-haired man stopped, suddenly noticing Freed standing there.

"Is there trouble?" Freed asked worriedly. "You can tell Jellal, I'm not angry."

"That's right," the blond growled at the star stripper. "Greenie here wants … _more_."

Ice Prince arched an eyebrow. "Not your usual type."

The hard eyes narrowed. "Do you have a problem with him, _Ice Prince_?"

"Nah, if you're fine with it, then I don't have to worry. Well, I've gotta go dance more. That pink bastard is working me to death again."

Thor looked back to Freed. "Gotta go, Greenie. Meet me at the bar twenty minutes after closing. Did you drive?"

"Yes, I have my car."

"Good. I walked. You can drive me home after we're done with whatever you want tonight. Oh, and you bring your own supplies."

"Supplies?"

"Handcuffs, rope, floggers, butt plugs. Just warning you now, I don't do dress-up."

"What?" Freed shrieked in mortification. "I … I said I don't want sex. Or, I don't need it."

"Whatever you do need, you provide. That's my policy."

"Just a night together," he insisted. "Just … I … I don't need that stuff."

"Whatever ya want, then. See ya." He turned and strode toward the door.

"W-wait!" Freed cried out. When those narrow eyes stared back, he gulped dryly. "Um, I was told … uh, t-tip. Leave a tip." He pulled out his wallet. The dance had been only thirty dollars, but he knew Thor was in a financial bind. He pulled out three ten dollar bills. "See if this makes your boss happier."

"Fuck him," Thor growled. "The bastard takes a percentage of my tips. You give me that much, he'll take most of it."

"Then only give him ten and keep the rest for yourself," Freed said with a sly smile.

Thor chuckled at the deviousness in this man's smirk. Ice Prince was right: this green-haired man was not his usual type, but he was damn interesting. Thor stepped back into the bathroom with a sadistic smile.

"There's a way you leave a stripper a tip, ya know."

Freed's mouth dropped. He had seen it many times in the club. Whenever Pinkie had Ice Prince dance for him, he tucked a couple dollars into his thong. He glanced down at the leather pants, knowing full well that there was nothing on underneath. If he reached in there, he chanced touching _that_. Still, shaking with nervous excitement, his hand reached forward.

"Nu-uh," Thor smirked. "On your knees."

Instantly, Freed dropped to his knees, not realizing just how disgusting the restroom floor might be.

"Use your mouth," Thor ordered.

Freed shuddered at the dominance of this man. He could not disobey this god of thunder. Meekly, he put the three bills into his mouth and leaned in closer. His nose pressed against the lower belly. He could smell the sweat and musk of this man, a fragrance of soap, and the tang of leather from his pants.

His eyes turned up, but that hard gaze pierced straight through him. He tried not to gasp too hard, lest the bills get sucked back into his throat. Instead, he pressed closer. His face rubbed against hard abs and leather. His chin could feel the soft lump in those pants as he tried to figure out how to angle his head to push the dollar bills into the narrow gap between flesh and fabric.

"Use your tongue, Greenie."

Freed groaned softly at the order. Yep, he was definitely submissive, probably a masochist, too. His tongue slid out, but the money was in his mouth. He had to press the bills down with his tongue, tucking them away into the pants with just his mouth.

He got two in, but one fell to the floor. Freed looked at the ten dollar bill with humiliation. He began to lean over, opened his mouth, and was going to pick the bill up that way.

A hand suddenly grabbed his cheeks roughly and yanked his head up, tongue still hanging out. He sat there on his knees, panting like a dog, tongue lolling, gazing up at a man he wanted as his master.

"Nu-uh. That one's dirty. It goes to Jellal. Hand it to me."

Freed reached down, picked the bill up, and presented it like an offering to his thunder god.

"Not bad," Thor said softly, taking the money.

Curiosity and fascination shone in his eyes that turned orange in the club's red lighting. Then the gleam in Thor's eyes suddenly shattered. He pulled away with a jolt, as if lightning had struck _him_ this time. For a moment, Thor looked confused, and Freed wondered why.

"You're used to this, aren't you?" the dancer said, almost in accusation. "Probably go to some professional Dom once a week for a scene, right?"

Breathlessly, Freed confessed, "It's my first time."

Again, the blond's eyebrows flinched as some thought disturbed him. Instead, he yanked the money out of his pants and turned away sharply. "You tip too high, idiot. Who the hell gives a hundred percent gratuity?"

"A man truly grateful," Freed answered with pure honesty.

Thor stood silently, but suddenly he stormed out without another word.

Freed stayed there on his knees for another minute, catching his breath and remembering the smell of sweat and leather. He would get to spend the night with the thunder god! It made his heart race. Plus it seemed like him asking just might get the dancer out of some trouble with Jellal. So what he asked was not annoying or overstepping his boundaries. It actually turned out to be helpful.

Freed watched the rest of the show in a daze. During a break, he took his ruined clothes out to his car so he did not have to hold them and remember his embarrassing scene. Once more, Thor came out onto the stage to dance. This time, those predatory eyes looked directly at Freed. It made the green-haired man gulp, and already he felt life returning to his cock. He definitely did not touch himself, though. No need to ruin Thor's boxers.

Although, coming in Thor's silk boxers…

Freed groaned a little at just the thought of it, and as if he could sense his partner's dirty thoughts, Thor lowered the zipper further and further. Absolutely nothing was on under those leather pants. The root of something huge teased the whole audience. Freed smiled privately. He was _wearing_ Thor's missing underwear!

After Thor's dance, Freed did not want to watch anyone else. No one could compare, in his mind. He sat at the bar with Bob, nursing a drink to keep down his anxiety, yet not wanting to get drunk. Bob kept smiling at him, but the bar was busy. He did not speak much to the nervous man.

Finally, the show was over. Patrons left, heading home for a night of jerking off to memories of their favorite dancers. Pinkie shouted out to Bob. He was a regular, and it seemed he knew the cross-dressing bartender as well.

Finally, with the club almost empty, Bob went over to Freed. "So, the dance went well?"

"Very well," he smiled. "Maybe too well."

"Could it be that you're waiting for a certain someone?" he asked, simpering smugly. "I heard that you asked Thor for some … _private lessons_."

Freed blushed fiercely. "It's not like I wanna _hire_ him. I would never treat Thor like some prostitute."

Bob smiled sympathetically. "Dear, these guys get men off for a living. Don't feel ashamed."

"I … I don't want that just for money."

"Oh?" he chuckled. "Are you hoping for love?"

"It's possible, right?" Freed shouted. "Maybe … maybe we can become friends, and maybe one day he could love me."

"Oh dear," Bob sighed in anguish. "Don't get your hopes up too much, sweetie. This is _Thor_ we're talking about. He doesn't really have friends, as far as I know."

That saddened Freed. How could such an amazing and caring man not have friends? The blond had let Freed borrow his own underwear just because he felt guilty for humiliating him.

"Well, in any case." Bob slid his hand over the bar and right over to Freed. When he lifted it, the green-haired man saw a condom square hidden under those pudgy fingers.

"Bob!" he cried out.

"Thor doesn't bring those to work. I know, I've scolded him many times about it, but he keeps insisting that if his clients want something, they have to bring their own supplies. So … just to be safe."

Humiliated and afraid someone might see, Freed snatched the condom away and hid it deep within his pocket.

"I … I'm not doing it unless he really wants it also," Freed insisted.

"Of course, deary. Oh, and here comes the lucky man."

Freed jolted and looked around. Jellal was walking out with his redheaded lady hanging on his arm, a king and his queen. Behind them, looming over like a royal bodyguard, was the scar-faced blond.

"Good work, Bob," Jellal called out. "Lock up the place."

"Of course, sir," Bob nodded. "Evening, Miss Erza."

"Thank you for your hard work, Master Bob," the redhead said with a warm, gentle voice that surprised Freed.

"She actually sounds nice," Freed muttered after the two left out the door.

"They run a tight ship, but Miss Erza is a caring woman, and Jellal, for how strict he must be with issues of business, he's only that way because he cares for the South Pole Club as a whole."

Freed would have normally asked more about the two, except a shadow now loomed over him, and his heart pounded like a thunderstorm. Thor was wearing those same leather trousers, but this time he had on a skin-tight black shirt and a long furry coat tossed over his shoulders, arms hanging loose. He nodded silently to Bob, and then he stared down at Freed.

"Ready?"

Freed bolted to his feet. "Y-yeah. Uh, follow me. See ya, Bob."

Bob blew him a kiss. "Have fun, lover boy!"

**Next Chapter: "A Cheap Motel"  
**


	3. A Cheap Motel

Chapter 3

**A Cheap Motel**

Freed walked out of the club, and he heard heavy boots striding just behind him. No one had ever called Freed short—he was taller than many of his friends, although not towering—however, standing next to this blond god, he felt tiny. He rushed to his car and hurriedly opened the passenger door for the burly strip dancer.

Sharp eyes glared down at him, sending a spiking thrill through Freed's nerves. "I can open a door by myself, ya know."

Freed's mouth opened, but the words caught like a scared mouse in a trap. "Th-the handle sometimes sticks," he said in an excuse, cringing that he was treating Thor with too much attention. A man like this would probably hate basic chivalry. He rushed around to the driver's side and slid in. He waited until Thor buckled his seat belt. Then he started up the engine and pulled out of the strip club's parking lot.

"Turn right," the blond said laconically. "Three lights down, make a left."

"Are we going somewhere?" Freed asked, making the turn onto the street.

"A little place I use. It's the cheapest motel in the city, hourly rates, more or less clean, rents ten bucks an hour to us strippers. That way our clients don't have to use up a crapload of money."

"I'm not a _client_," Freed insisted.

"Well, it's true that you didn't offer to pay me. I figured we'd work that out when we got there."

Freed's brows tightened. "I don't want to _hire_ you."

"Then ya ain't getting much. I don't do shit for free."

Freed sighed in irritation and decided not to complain. He figured if he could just talk to this man, they could find some common interest, something that could make them friends. He wondered just how often Thor got _clients_, but he figured it was rude to ask. He probably did not want to know, anyway.

"What's after the left?" Freed asked as he came up to the light. Thor had his hand to his mouth. "Hey, are you all right?"

"Yeah, I tend to get motion sickness in cars. I'll be fine once we get to the motel. Keep straight for a mile. Look on your right for the sign with a neon igloo. That's the one." He went quiet again with his hand fisted up and pressed to his mouth.

Freed smiled sympathetically. So, the almighty Thunder God got carsick, huh? He felt like he was learning new things about this man already.

Not long later, he saw a flickering motel sign. Pole Palace, and sure enough, there was an igloo in white neons with a suspiciously phallic North Pole. Freed parked the car, and the blond practically catapulted himself out of the vehicle. They went in together, entering a little foyer where Thor told the worker they wanted the hourly rate. Freed disliked that the worker seemed to know Thor by sight. Just how often had he come here?

"As usual, the corner room," the worker said, handing the blond a key. "One hour charged to your card now, sir," he said to Freed. "Additional hours are charged at the time you return the key. It's a twenty-four hour time limit. Good evening, sirs."

They walked out and passed by other motel rooms. Some had sensual moans coming out through the walls and windows.

"Prince … _nnngh_, Prince."

"You're sensitive like usual, you pink bastard. Now, roar for me."

"No, not there. Your hands are too cold. Oh damn, so cold! So good! Oh God, that's … _ahhhhh!_"

"That's the sexy sound I like to hear from you."

Freed toned out the groans coming out of almost every room. It was like walking past an orgy. (He had that experience once in college, a party he would rather forget ever happened.) He probably could end up just like all of them: a moaning voice in the night, paying for a release of sexual desires. Freed did not want that, though. The thought of hiring Thor, like some cheap prostitute, was repulsive to him. Thor was a _god_, not a hooker. He wanted to worship this man, bow to him, obey him, but he did not want to pay. He wanted Thor to _want_ his adulations.

"He said this was your _usual_," Freed mumbled questioningly as they walked along an ill-lit corridor to find the motel room.

"My clients tend to upset other people here," Thor answered.

"Noisy?"

"Very." He looked disgusted, but he said nothing more. "If you need to scream, it's fine. The corner room has the best insulation."

"Scream?" Freed frowned.

"You're a masochist, right?"

"I … well, I think I am."

Those narrow eyes glanced down at him, and for the first time Freed saw their natural color. They were a lovely shade of blue.

"So, you're still experimenting with the whole scene, eh?"

"Huh?" Freed had no clue what he meant.

"We can experiment. Tonight, we'll see what you like, how far I should take it, where your limits are."

"Take … it? How far?"

They got to the door, and Freed let them both in. He decidedly did not hold the door open this time, but marched straight in. The room was definitely the worst he had seen. The bed was neatly made, but the walls were cracked and peeling, stains marked the carpet, and the place reeked of cleansers and an overload of air fresheners that vainly tried to cover the smell. He could see why the motel rented hourly. Likely, no one would want to stay a full night in one of these rooms, let alone twenty-four hours.

Thor tossed his coat off and marched over to the bed, not even taking his shoes off. "So, let's work it out now."

"Wait, wait," Freed cried out. "I'm not _hiring_ you for sex."

"Of course you're not. You said you didn't want sex. That's the only reason I agreed. No sex. Straight up BDSM."

"No!" Freed blushed as he remembered what Thor had said about bringing his own supplies. "I don't know if I want that sort of thing."

Thor crossed his arms. "You've been really weird all night. So what do you want from me?"

Freed blushed and looked away. "Not much, I guess."

"Standard spanking?"

"No! Look, I … I don't know if…" He growled in frustration.

"I'm sorry, Greenie," the burly dancer said softly, hoping to calm him down. "I forgot, you're new to this. I've never had someone new. Here's how it works. You decide what you want me to do. I might say no. I don't do a lot of kinky shit. For the things I agree to do, we negotiate a price. I do what you want, for as long as you want. My prices are set for half-hour intervals. No half price if you only last fifteen minutes, got it? You want another half hour, all activities cost you again. So if you want spanked, but then want to be my dog, and thirty-five minutes later you want more spanking, I charge you again."

Freed shivered at the idea that Thor had worked out such a precise system of payment for sexual favors. "Do I have to pay you just to talk?"

"Talk? Like dirty talk?"

"Like … _talking_. Two people, mouths moving, intelligent conversation."

"Talk is free. Dirty talk is base-rate five bucks."

"What about kissing? Do I have to pay just to have you kiss me? What if I kiss you and you don't kiss back?"

The scarred eyebrow raised high. "What the hell? Kissing? I thought you said you don't want sex."

"I'm not going to pay you for sex, but do I have to pay just to kiss you? If I do, I won't kiss you. I don't want to have to pay you to do _anything_."

"Not pay … oh shit, I have no clue what you even want." The blond rose to his feet and paced away in frustration. He stopped by the restroom and suddenly spun around. "Is this a game already? Is that the deal? If you're playing _I-don't-want-it_ games, that falls under rape fantasy and that's fifty bucks."

"It's not a game. I just don't want to force you to do anything."

"Look, Greenie—"

"Freed."

The dancer looked over in confusion.

"My name, it's Freed. Freed Justine."

One hand ran through his spiky blond hair. "That name is way too weird to be a cover-up. You know, normal policy is that a dancer and client never learn one another's names."

Freed looked sadly disappointed. "Your name isn't Thor?"

The blue eyes narrowed. "Do I look like a fucking Thor?"

"Yes," Freed answered instantly.

"Well, it's not my name. I don't give out my name. That's some stage name my jackass boss came up with, because of this." He pointed to the lightning-shaped scar on his eye. "Look, someone probably told you about my job situation. That's why you're doing this, right?" He watched as Freed blanched a little. "I'll be honest: it's the only reason I went with you tonight. A kid like you, I would normally turn down."

Freed felt like a rapier had just stabbed into his heart. He remembered what Ice Prince had said about not being Thor's usual type. "Why? Do you not like me?"

"I don't even know you," he snapped. "Besides, I'm not the sort of man you think I am."

"I don't think one way or another," Freed admitted. "I want to get to know you, so I can make my own opinions. Even if I'm not your type, I thought…" He stopped and looked away with a sinking feeling of disappointment. "Well, maybe this isn't usual, but we're about the same age. We could hang out after work, maybe even be friends."

Thor stared at him hard for almost a solid minute of tense silence. "Friends?" he said softly, in total disbelief. Then he yelled angrily, "Fuckin' friends?" He let out a bitter, scoffing laugh. "Dammit, you really are something, kid."

"Please, call me—"

"You're a kid," he roared. "You're a goddamn fucking kid. I bet you're younger than me, and you ain't bad-looking, so why the hell are you hanging out in a gay strip club? It's supposed to be just old men and perverts, and you wanna be fuckin' friends!"

Freed backed up a step. "Is that your type? Old men?"

The stripper froze for a moment, and Freed saw a swallow get stuck in his throat. Then he turned away angrily and took a few steps in the opposite direction. "It's what I normally take. Look, I … I'm not anything at all what you think. Hell, I'm not even gay."

Freed's eyes widened. "Not … but … then why…?"

"I'm a sadist who uses and abuses old men, all right?" he snapped, still looking in the opposite direction.

"Uses? I don't get it."

"My clientèle is extremely limited, but the men who like this sort of thing will pay good money for it. Jellal only cares about numbers, not how much I can make from those few men, since most of that is private, on-the-side money. Jellal only gets his money when one buys a lap dance or V.I.P. room, and those are always just to arrange a meeting after work for … private sessions."

Freed felt uncomfortable hearing all these details about the inner workings of a stripper. "So, why only old men if you're not gay?" he asked in confusion.

"I told you, I'm a sadist, and I don't hit women."

"So you hit old men?"

He chuckled darkly. "I beat the motherfucking shit out of them. They pay a lot for it, too."

"But if you're not gay—"

"I beat them. I don't fuck them. I might have done a handjob or two, but I've never once fucked a client. There aren't many men in this town who want that sort of thing, and then they only want it once in a while, a breather, how rich old men deal with stress, so it's not exactly a full-time job. This dancing gig is just to cover bills between jobs and make it easier for me to find new clients. I know how to dance, and I know how to tease without giving a person what they want. That's what I do: tease the old bastards and beat them until they come on their own. They get their kicks; I get to work out aggression."

"Aggression?" Freed pouted, sensing a deeper darkness in this troubled man.

"Do you really wanna know?"

"I want to be your friend, Thor."

"Dammit, don't call me _Thor_. I hate that name."

"What should I call you, then?"

The blond glanced back over his shoulder and eyed the thin, green-haired man up and down, assessing the level of danger in him. He sensed nothing bad. "I'll tell you why I do it. If you run away, you can keep thinking of me as Thor. If somehow you don't run for the hills, I'll tell you my real name, and we can play this your way."

Freed gave a small nod and braced himself for whatever turbulent past this man had.

"Come here," he waved, and Freed eagerly got closer. Thor pulled off his tight, black shirt, exposing the tattoos. "Look closer, but don't you dare touch me."

Freed kept his hands behind his back to show he would not touch. He inspected the swirling tattoos. They were truly a work of art, such smooth lines that enhanced the shape of his muscles. However, he noticed something odd.

"They're on top of … scars?"

The blond nodded slowly. "I got the tattoos to hide the scars. Shit load of scars, right? How do you think I got them?"

Freed honestly had no clue. The lines were too straight to have been caused by knife fights. "Surgery?"

"Close. My bastard father was a scientist, a real cracked one. He would … do things to me," he said softly.

Freed looked up in horror from the black tattoos to the darkness in the man's deep-blue eyes.

"I was a really scrawny and sickly kid, so he would inject me with things to make me a son worthy of his legacy. Steroids, protein concoctions, Devil knows what shit he used on me. I was the human test subject in his mostly-illegal research. Hell, maybe he was trying to create a super-human like some comic book. One day, he decided mere shots were not enough. I needed something more, something permanent. I still don't know precisely what he did to me. I just know it was … painful." His eyes tensed up with childhood memories. "It's not a time of my life I like to remember."

He pulled away and yanked his shirt back on, covering the tattoos and the scars.

"Luckily, my grandfather realized what he was doing, took me in, and sent my father away. He's an internationally wanted criminal now, part of a whole criminal organization called Raven Tail, rather famous on the INTERPOL lists. I haven't seen the bastard since that time, but I know that if I do, I'll kill him … slowly. I'll torture him over many months, like he did to me, and when I've had my fill of hearing him scream, I'll beat the motherfucker to death with my own fists. That's why I take old men. I pretend they're him, I humiliate them, I whip them, I beat them until they either come or they use a safeword on me, and then I leave. I get out aggression, and I experiment to see what sorts of things I can do, how much pain I can inflict, before they use a safeword."

"Safeword?"

"A word that tells me I've gone beyond what they can handle, something stronger than just yelling _Stop_. So yeah, that's what I do. Consensual torture. I beat up old men to train myself so I can one day torture and kill my father. If the old men get their kicks in the process, good for them. I don't give a rat's ass what they want or what they think. They're not allowed to even touch me. I don't kiss them, I don't hug them if they cry, I beat their cocks rather than jerk them, and I sure as hell don't fuck them."

Freed nodded thoughtfully, trying to digest this horrific tale. Inside, he was shivering. He truly could not imagine what this man's childhood must have been like with a father who would cut him and do _experiments _on him.

"Hey," Freed said quietly, "if you ever find that father of yours, let me know. I'd like to get in a few punches as well."

The blond stared at him in shock. "You … you're not … sickened by me?"

"I'm sickened by him, not by you."

"I'm the one beating up old men."

Freed just shrugged. "They're masochists. They like it, and it's how you deal with your emotions."

"I thought you'd vomit and run away."

"I don't run out on friends."

"We're not friends!" the blond snapped.

"Not yet," Freed shrugged lightly, "but I care about you."

"You care about _Thor_, some asshole slut who prances around on a stage."

"I care for whatever man is standing in front of me right now," Freed objected, looking firmly into those oceanic eyes.

The blond's brow tightened at that, crinkling his forehead. For a moment, the two men looked at one another, and a clock ticked away the seconds. Finally… "Laxus. My name is Laxus."

Freed held his hand out to shake. "Nice to meet you, Laxus. My name is Freed."

He snorted a wry laugh, yet he took the hand in a crushing grip. To his surprise, the man held back just as firmly. Laxus raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"You're stronger than you look."

"Thirteen years of fencing lessons builds up your hands and arm muscles."

"You continue to impress me, Freed. How about we go out for drinks? We can talk about something more normal."

"Normal is boring," Freed smirked. "But I could use a drink. You laid quite a crapload of stuff on me just now."

"You didn't run away."

"I told you, I don't run on friends. I stay by their side and fight with them. That's my way."

"I like your way," Laxus said in amusement. "Come on, you owe me a drink."

Freed went outside, past the moans and huffing grunts. He walked back to the front of the motel and returned the key.

"That was fast," the concierge frowned.

"We had a misunderstanding," Freed smiled, happy to slowly be straightening things out with this thunder god.

**Next Chapter: "Whiskey and Gin"  
**


	4. Whiskey and Gin

Chapter 4

**Whiskey and Gin**

Hesitantly, Laxus followed behind Freed. He had never just _hung out_ with a guy before, and it was a weird concept. He walked behind the green-haired man to the car and sat with stiff movements.

"Relax. I don't bite," Freed laughed, remembering what Laxus had said to him during the lap dance. "You were way more confident earlier."

"Earlier, I was in my own environment. I feel like I'm trapped in your world now."

"My world?"

"A world of going out for drinks with friends, relaxing on a couch, chatting about the weather, maybe going to a game and cheering on your favorite team. The normal world."

"I can't promise I'd cheer at a game. I don't much like sports besides fencing."

"Swords, right? You compete?"

"I've been on TV."

"No kidding!"

"Bob has even played some of my matches on the screens in the club's bar."

"Bob the drag queen bartender? You know him?"

"Just from the club." Freed backed his car out of the driveway and onto the street. "Don't you ever hang out with people from work?"

"I've gone drinking with Gray once or twice, but only because he kept bugging me."

"Gray?"

"Oh shit," Laxus realized in horror. "Forget that name."

Freed thought about it. "Ice Prince?"

"I said forget it!" he snapped. "We're not supposed to let clients know our real names."

"I'm not a client, and I'm not interested in him. I probably won't return to the South Pole Club again, anyway."

Laxus looked worried. "You're not coming back?"

"I was only coming to watch you. Now I know you're not gay. Sort of squashes my fantasies."

"Oh," Laxus mumbled, and he looked away.

Laxus was silent through the rest of the ride, but Freed did not really feel up for conversation, either. His mind still whirled around what he had been told. Besides, if they did all of their talking in the car, they would have nothing left to say while drinking.

He also realized that Laxus did not look well.

"Carsick again?"

"Shut up," the hulking man growled. "Dammit, I forgot my headphones. Don't you have music in this car? I feel less sick when I listen to music."

Freed turned on the radio. "Find what you like."

It was set to a classical station, something Freed preferred while sitting in traffic because it kept him calm. However, he figured a man like Laxus would like something more upbeat. To his surprise, Laxus let out a sigh of relief and kept the radio right where it was.

"You can change the station," Freed offered again.

"Nah, this is good. Do you like classical?"

"Enough to know this is Mozart's _Flute Concerto Number 1_."

"Good ear. My mother used to tell me that flute music settles the stomach."

Freed was about to ask about his mother, but he figured that if Laxus had an issue with his father, more than likely he should not ask about what happened to his mother. Instead, he sat back and listened to the soaring, gentle tones of the flute filling the car and easing the stomach of his passenger.

They went to a pub Freed knew. Maybe it was a bit classy, but he liked a place that was clean and the drinks were strong. Besides, he was not the sort for sports bars and dance clubs.

"I like this place," Laxus said as he got out of the car.

Freed's eyes lit up. "You've been here?"

"A couple times." He glanced over and saw Freed's gleaming face. "Don't look so damn pleased with yourself, Greenie. I've been to probably every pub in the city at least once."

Freed knew he was right. The city was not that big. There was a good chance Laxus visited many of the same places he liked, and they simply never crossed paths before. They walked in together. This late at night, there were not many patrons, and most of those were already drunk. They found a seat away from the others, and a waiter came up.

"Last call is in twenty minutes, just warning you."

Freed hardly realized it was that late already.

"Then I'll have a triple Blue Label, neat, with a water back," Laxus said. He looked to Freed, nodding for him to order.

Scotch whiskey! That was a heavy drinker's order, but completely the sort of drink Freed figured a man like Laxus would order. Freed felt intimidated and stuttered.

"Order what you normally do," Laxus said in a commanding whisper.

He gulped and nodded. "Sapphire martini, up, two olives to the side in a shot glass."

The waiter nodded and went off.

"Refined," Laxus smiled wryly. "I figured you were a martini man. You seem to be the type. You also know what you like. What a man orders says a lot about him. You learn that working the sort of job I do."

"Can you really tell what every man in that room is like just by what he's drinking?" Freed asked with interest.

"Not completely, but I can tell a lot. That pink-haired brat likes flaming drinks. He's still a kid, probably just barely old enough to drink, but he wants to show off. He likes attention, and he likes to horde. Just look at how he buys up Ice Prince's time. Those dragon twins…"

Freed chuckled that Laxus had given them the same nickname he did.

"… order tequila shots to start, but they stick to cheap-ass beer for the rest of the night. They want to get drunk quick, but not get sick. They think they need to keep drinking, but they're pressed for money. The beer also makes them appear manly. They were probably raised in homophobic homes, broke free, met each other, started whatever biker gang they're in to keep their bad-boy reputation while banging one another. They're both too self-conscious with the concept of bottoming, so they both want to seem like they top. That's why their drinks are always identical."

"They're a couple?" Freed asked. He had suspicions.

"I don't need to see what they drink to tell you that. I've heard them in the restroom slamming each other against the walls."

Freed grimaced. "Do you get that a lot?"

"Not really. Not many couples come there. Now Miss Erza, on the other hand, drinks straight up bourbon when alone, but she will only drink strawberry daiquiris if Jellal is around. She's hard on the outside, but sweet on the inside. She really wants to play up that sweet side to her lover. Then there's you. You drink gin martinis or chilled chartreuse. I've never seen you guzzling beer or hitting the hard spirits. You have taste, you know what you like, and you try too hard."

"Try too hard?" Freed repeated, stunned by that assumption.

"You know you're better than the assholes in that club. You're probably well-educated, maybe you even came from a wealthy family. If not, then at least you're into some wealth now. In either case, you've come to define your social status through your drinks. Martinis are the drink of the upper class, and you've taken that a step further by ordering a damn good gin and specifying your taste: olives to the side. Also, you don't drink chartreuse because you particularly like it. You drink it because you think it's refined. You make a face whenever you sip it, but you refuse to mix it. You're afraid to slip into the same level as the pervs in that club, so you try too hard to separate yourself from them by ordering something those Budweiser bums have probably never heard of before."

Freed dropped his head, thinking about this observation. It was true, he ordered chartreuse, not because he liked the potent flavor of the liqueur, but because people often raised their eyebrows and asked about it. He could then brag about the 130 herbs and how only two monks in France know the secret technique for making the drink. It made him sound well-versed in drinking, which somehow equated to refinement. It kept him a step above the sleaze-balls who frequented the gay strip club purely to get off.

Their drinks came just then. Laxus got his scotch whiskey with the side of water. He remained in a casual yet somehow domineering stance, leaned back in the pub's booth, staring with those stormy blue eyes.

"And your choice in drink?" asked Freed.

Laxus raised his glass in salute. "I like it strong, I like it hard, no frills, nothing sweet." He took a sip of the whiskey and let it flow over his tongue.

Freed gulped as lewd thoughts filled his head, but he calmly pointed out, "And yet you ordered the water. I know it cuts the scotch, opening up the flavor of the drink."

Laxus chuckled at his keen observation. "When I find something I like, I want to indulge."

_Something he likes…_

But Laxus was not gay. He would not _like_ Freed, not that way. He would not want to _indulge_ in him.

Laxus lifted the glass of water. "Now, most drinkers blend a few drops of water into the scotch. Cuts the alcohol burn, lets the flavor break through. I like the burn. I like how it tingles all the way down. However, it'll numb your taste buds if you're not careful, or if you drink a lot, and I like to drink a lot of scotch. So the water…" He took just a small sip. "…it cools off the tongue, washes it all down, before the alcohol can numb it. I get the full effect of the scotch without weakening it, and I can enjoy it for as long as I want."

Freed immediately sipped his martini to hide his blushing. He felt his heart flutter at those deep words, but he forced his eyes down.

"So, Mister Martini Drinker. Tell me how you really are," Laxus ordered, leaning back and swirling the scotch in his hand.

Freed set the martini glass down and stared at it as he spoke. "I suppose my family is well-off," he said guardedly. "I'm currently a university student, but it's assumed I'll take over my father's business. Needless to say, he wasn't all that happy to find out I was gay."

"Only child?"

"A brother and a sister. Bickslow's a perverted idiot, but my father is trying to set him up with the marriage alliance he couldn't get out of me. My sister Evergreen is the real brains in the family. I'm the pretty face my parents like to show off at parties."

"Sounds monotonous."

"Achingly so," Freed groaned. "That might be why I got into fencing. I'm in charge, no one controls my destiny, I fight my own battles, and it lets me gain a victory that has nothing to do with family prestige or money. If I want to be the pretty little princeling prancing around, I can pretend to be that, but if I want to be a demon with a sword, I can be."

Laxus chuckled into his drink. "Now I want to see you fight. I've never seen a fencing match before. Sounds interesting."

"I'll take you to my next match."

Laxus froze with the cup to his lips, and slowly he pulled it back down. "You're assuming a lot, Greenie."

"My only assumption is that you'll eventually call me Freed, not Greenie, and we'll become friends by the end of the night."

"Like I said: a lot!" He took a large gulp, set his tumbler down, and immediately picked up the water to chase it.

"So, you really aren't homosexual?" Freed asked, sounding just a little disappointed.

Laxus gave a shrug. "Not one way or another, I guess. I've spent my whole life pretty much avoiding any sort of relationship beyond work acquaintances."

"Does that make you a virgin?" Freed smirked.

Laxus' eyes widened and his cheeks flushed. "Hey now!"

"Good," Freed smiled, feeling looser with some more alcohol in him. "I am too, so I don't have to feel totally out of my league while around you."

Laxus coughed out his scotch, spraying the table with alcohol. "You? A virgin? Shit, a guy as good-looking as you should have women all over him."

"I'm rather uncomfortable around women. They're my biggest weakness. I prefer the company of men."

"Does that have something to do with your parents?"

"They were trying to arrange a marriage for me before I even understood the difference between boys and girls. As soon as I turned fifteen, I was paraded around to every eligible débutante in five hundred miles. Each girl was primly schooled to believe that a flighty, flirty attitude was the best way to impress a gentleman. I took up every fencing tournament I could enter just to get out of that hell."

"And that turned you gay?"

Freed chuckled and shook his head. "You don't _turn_ gay. You either are or you aren't. I have never found women to be sexually appealing. More like they're scary, intimidating creatures that I fear will put their hands all over me, and I feel disgusted by the mere thought of it."

"So you don't like women at all?"

"I don't _mind_ women. I have plenty of female friends. I just don't find them sexually appealing."

Laxus cocked his head to the side with an arrogant smile. "So what _do_ you find appealing?"

Freed's brain screamed "_YOU!_" However, he held that thought back. Laxus was not homosexual, after all. "Someone taller than me. I typically go for light-colored hair, but not always. Strong men, independent … muscular," he admitted, hardly helping to take a look at how Laxus' tight shirt showed off those hulking muscles. "I want a man who can support me, who can … d-dominate me." He bit his lip and turned his head aside as he felt himself blush.

"Dated many men?"

Freed scoffed while rolling his eyes. "I'm not even sure if you'd consider it dating. How about you? You must have women all over you, when you're not entertaining men."

"I tried the whole dating thing in high school. Wasn't all that impressed. Just a pain in the ass. Too much drama, ladies just wanting me to pop their cherries."

"And you didn't?"

"Like I said, it was a pain in the ass. I wasn't interested in that stuff. Didn't want sex, sure as hell didn't need some girl screaming in my ear when my hand serves me just as easily, and without all the PMS bullshit. None of the girls I dated got me hard, anyway, no matter how they tried. People in general don't get me aroused, girls or guys."

"What does?"

"Hell if I know!" Laxus grumbled, but Freed thought he saw a bit of a blush to his cheeks. He wondered what could interest a man like this if lap dances and pretty ladies did nothing for him. However, Laxus steered the conversation away from his own love life. "So, did your parents ever managed to get you to try dating a few girls?"

"Oh hell no!" Freed sneered. "At least Bickslow and Evergreen backed me up when it came to that."

Laxus eyed this long-haired man up and down. "Pretty rich boy, always in control, always expected to be the perfect son to a perfect family. No wonder you want to escape into some fetish-filled fantasy where you have no control, where someone strips you of your pride, where you can face your fear of humiliation without anyone else seeing you that way."

Freed felt his heart sink a little. "Do you see that a lot? Is it a common theme amongst your … _clients_?"

Laxus gave a shrug and knocked back the last of his drink. "I'd be lying if I said it wasn't. Every single one of my clients is well-off financially. They have to be to afford me. Bankers, lawyers, doctors, CEOs, maybe a politician or two: people who are always in control, who must maintain their image, who can't let their fake smile, their fake grimace, their fake _life_, slip up for even one minute. Those are the sorts who desperately need to escape. They need to be humiliated in a setting where they won't lose their job just because they're a whining, mewling, pissing-themselves mess. They need balance. They need escape. They need to hurt. They need to let go of the white-knuckled clench on their reputation and feel normal for one night."

"_Normal_ being…?"

Laxus smiled vilely. "Crying like the baby they are inside, punished for being the bad boys they have to be in the _real world_, broken and beaten in a world where everyone is afraid to even _touch_ them wrong."

"And you give them that?" Freed asked hesitantly.

"Like I said before: I beat them; I don't fuck them."

Freed stared down into his martini. "I … don't think that's what I want."

"I can tell. I knew from the very start. You're a raging submissive, maybe you'd like a little light bondage and humiliation, but you're not into the hardcore _pain_ I usually dole out."

"No, I … I don't think I'd like that."

"Because you still feel the struggle of independence. Most of those men—not all, but most—have given up, succumbed to their lot in life, their perfectly planned destiny. They studied hard, married well, worked diligently, and never allowed themselves to do something just for themselves. That's why they need something extreme now that they're old and miserable. Nearly all of my clients absolutely hate their wives. I'd almost pity them, except they let themselves be placed into that role, and they're probably doing the same damn thing to their kids. In forty years, it'll be their sons seeking out a sadist to beat the misery out of them. You, on the other hand," Laxus went on, "I can tell you're still fighting that. That puts you a cut above the pompous assholes I beat up."

"Is that why you're here with me?"

"Maybe," he shrugged languorously. "You show me that some pretty rich boy can be more than a mindless robot following the orders of his parents and society, marrying whoever they tell you to because that's your social duty, the traditions of your caste, _noblesse oblige_, generations of prestige riding on what they decide you have to become. You're the sort of man who says 'Fuck it' to all that bullshit. I like that. Besides, you're good company." He looked down at the empty glass. "And I'm out of alcohol."

Freed finished up his martini. "I can take you home. It's late."

"You're paying for this," Laxus pointed out. He rose and headed to the restroom.

Freed watched Laxus' ass as he walked away. "As you wish," he whispered, wanting to be ordered around just a little more.

Freed paid the tab, and Laxus came out. Together, they went back to Freed's car.

"I'll tell you where to take me, but you're not dropping me off at home," Laxus said sternly.

"I understand," Freed nodded. "I'm sure you think of me as nothing more than some stranger, maybe even a stalker."

"Nah, I've seen stalkers. Gray's got one that follows him everywhere."

"You mean _Ice Prince_," Freed corrected with a smirk.

"Ah shit," Laxus growled, realizing he messed up again. "Hell, you know his name now, no big deal. Anyway, I'd rather think of you as a fanboy," he chuckled as the car started up. "But I'm glad you understand one thing. I don't know you; you don't know me. Most new clients don't comprehend that. They've built up such an imagination about _Thor_, that person on the stage, they think they know everything about me. They know jack shit! My clients never even learn my real name. You know just my first name. That's all I'm willing to give out for now. We're not acquainted, not yet. You know a dancer; I know someone who frequents a club where I work, someone I haven't talked to before today."

"Not _friends_ yet, huh?"

Laxus slid a glance over. "Maybe getting there," he said softly. "Make a left, then a right on Strawberry Street. Past the bridge, you'll see a gas station. You can drop me off there. I'll walk the rest of the way."

Freed drove down a road mostly empty, although there were a few cars out, people coming home from bars, night owls up for nocturnal wandering, and a few night-shift workers coming back from a tiring evening of work. Freed realized Laxus was holding his mouth again, so he turned on the radio.

"You don't seem like the classical music type," Freed mentioned.

"Shows how much bullshit you assume based on my appearance," Laxus mumbled.

"Do you like opera? I have a friend, Mira, who sings at the local opera house. She gives me tickets once in a while."

Laxus glared over at him. "That almost sounds like a date."

Freed chuckled and shook his head. "I don't hit on straight guys. I'm just trying to think of something we can do, something we both like. We both like classical music. It's a start."

"A start to what?" the gruff man grumbled.

"Being friends. Nothing romantic, just friends."

Laxus glared at him for a minute. "You honestly do sound like you're not interested in romance anymore."

Freed was amused at how he said that in such a hard way, yet almost with a pouting sound to his words. "Like I said, I won't hit on a guy if I know for sure that he's heterosexual. It's a crappy thing to do and makes people uncomfortable, just as awkward as I feel if a lady tries to hit on me."

"I see," Laxus muttered. "I guess that's good. You respect them."

"If I want people to respect my orientation, I have to respect theirs. Still, and I don't mean to sound rude, but it seems so weird, thinking you're a straight man working at a gay strip club. I guess it makes sense, though. You can dance for them and never have to worry about getting sexually aroused. I'm sure that's something men have a big problem with. It's so easy to tell on guys." He laughed as he realized that maybe female strippers had an advantage in that department.

Laxus was quiet as they drove along the shadowy boulevard. Finally, he muttered, "I guess it's more like I'm not gay, but I'm not straight."

Freed glanced over, surprised by that revelation. "You mentioned that you don't get aroused by people. Asexual?"

Laxus sputtered out a sigh. "Hell if I know. I don't label it. Girls are hot; guys aren't bad. Still, I don't really wanna fuck either one. I guess I'm just not interested in either gender sexually." He mumbled to himself, "Not until now."

Freed slammed on the brakes, and the car behind him honked angrily. He looked over in surprise.

Laxus roared, "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Not until now?" Freed repeated in shock.

"You could have caused an accident."

"What do you mean, _not until now_?"

"I don't know. Drive already!"

Slowly, Freed started the car moving again. Laxus rubbed out the tension in his forehead.

"Seriously, don't scare me like that. I don't handle transportation well as it is, so I don't need you driving like a crazy person." They were both silent for a while. Then the car came to a stop at a red light. The motion sickness twisting in Laxus' gut eased up while they were halted, and finally he felt like he could talk. "I just meant that you're interesting. That's all. I noticed you in the audience, but I didn't know why you were there. Then you called for me. That takes guts. You're not like people who normally request me. You're an enigma, you're more forward than what I'm used to, and a lot younger than the people I normally get. You're funny and awkward and pretty good company for drinking. You're into a cool sport like sword fighting, you're not all passive and mewling, and you're a hot dude."

Freed jolted, and he was glad they were stopped at the light. Laxus thought he was … hot? He felt his face beaming with an eager smile.

"I don't think I'd actually want to fuck you," Laxus clarified, "but I wouldn't mind doing … other stuff."

"More than drinks?"

Laxus folded his arms and looked out the window to hide his blush. "Yeah, more than drinks."

"_Stuff_ as in…?"

"Whatever you're wanting," he shouted irritably. "Ya wanna act submissive to me, I can do that. You want tied up, smacked around, wanna be turned into a piece of furniture or an animal, it's all good."

"But you wouldn't get any satisfaction from it," Freed pointed out.

Laxus gave a petulant shrug. "I might. You're about my age, you're hot, you're not some saggy meatbag with warts and wrinkles. It could be … fun."

Freed watched the red light and thought about this offer. "Do I have to pay?"

"Only for the hotel. I ain't got the money to cover costs like that."

"I don't want to be a _client_."

"Dammit, I'm offering this on my own accord," Laxus snapped. "However, I can still pick what I do and don't do."

"Fair enough. Do you want to head back to that igloo place?"

"The cheap motel? I hate that shit-hole."

"Then someplace nicer than that. A real hotel? The Hilton is close by."

"Can you afford it?"

"I won my last fencing tourney. I can afford it."

"If we're gonna do this, I need another drink."

"I'll get a room with a wet bar."

"Now you're talkin'," Laxus chuckled. However, the laugh was quieted when the light turned green and Freed began to drive. Laxus held his hand up to his mouth again.

"You really have an issue with motion sickness, huh?"

"I don't like to talk about it."

"Has to do with your father then, right?"

Laxus glared over to the driver's seat. "For bringing that up, I want to beat the shit out of you right now."

"I might like that," Freed smirked. "I was just telling Bob today…"

"Bob the drag queen?"

"Yep, him. I told him I think I'm a masochist. I'm not sure if I like being _beaten_, but I like the idea of being restrained, maybe teased without fulfillment."

Laxus blinked his eyes in shock. "You like…? Fuck!" He looked away and covered his gaping mouth.

"What?" Freed asked in worry. "Are you sick again? I can pull over."

"No. That's what the old men like. _Fuck!_"

"Do you mean, no fulfillment? Is that bad?"

"No, it makes it easier on me, but … but I was thinking … of maybe fulfilling you."

Freed slammed on the brakes again, and this time the driver behind him shrieked "_Asshole!_"

Laxus also screamed at him. "I'm serious, drive properly or I'm jumping out of this moving death-box."

"Fulfilling me?"

"Do you repeat everything I say?" Laxus snapped. "Drive, and the next time you slam on the brakes, I'm jumping out of this car and walking home."

Freed made sure to drive as safely and smoothly as possible as he continued to the hotel.

"Look, if you want just a cock-tease, I can do that. I'm good at it. Damn good. But you came pretty quickly earlier."

"I'm really sorry…"

"Shut up!" he snapped, and Freed jolted to obey. "I just thought … well, I can work on you with that. I was distracted earlier tonight, what with Jellal threatening to fire me, so I wasn't paying attention to your needs. If we're in a hotel, I can train your body to hold back until I _allow you_ to come. It'll help you with the premature ejaculation issue. Just an offer, though."

"Can you … can you tease me all night?" he asked nervously.

"I'm off work tomorrow. Do you want to set a time limit?"

"Sunrise," Freed said instantly. "I want to be able to hold off until the sun rises."

"That's one hell of a cock-tease! I've never done it that long. Those old men can usually only last an hour. Four hours … you'll be hurting. Seriously hurting."

"Good," Freed smiled slyly.

Laxus chortled wryly. "You really are a masochist."

"I figured I probably was one. Are you really a sadist, or is that just your job?"

"Sometimes after I've beaten up an old man, I go home and jerk off to videos of BDSM torture."

"I'd like to see you do that while you work on me."

"Jerk off, you mean? Hell, if you can last all four hours, I'll spray it on your face."

Freed's foot began to move over to the brake pedal again.

Laxus screamed at him, "Slam on the fucking brakes again and I'm gone!"

He forced himself to keep driving, although his hands clenched the wheel as he imagined this thunder god's cock covering his face in cum.

"I seriously am a masochist," Freed mumbled.

**Next Chapter: "Supplies and Surprise"**

* * *

_A/N: And you're seriously in for a world of fun, Freed._

_Freed's drink (Sapphire martini, up, two olives to the side in a shot glass) is one of my favorite drinks, and how I order a martini. I like martinis, I love olives, but I don't like how the olives affect the taste of the martini. I used to order just a plain Sapphire martini and simply eat the olives right away, before they could affect the gin. Then one day I was out celebrating with my music mentor, and he ordered his martini with the olives to the side in a shot glass. After I saw him do that, I began to order the same way._

_I know some pompous asshole will argue with me about drinking scotch. It always happens. You know what? Up yours! Scotch is to be enjoyed, and if you enjoy it straight up, on the rocks, or with a water back, however you like it, that's how you drink it. According to one dear Scotsman I know, "The theory that straight up scotch is the only proper way to drink it is pure and utter bullocks. It's an idea invented by Americans who don't know how we Scots actually drink. I order with a water back. I enjoy it that way. So that's my proper way to drink. Scotch is to be enjoyed, plain and simple."_

_On a side note, Chartreuse is seriously one of the most interesting liqueurs in the world, only two monks in France know how to make it, and it's GREEN, so perfect for Freed. However, the taste is not for everyone._

_I do not promote the Hilton Hotels, Bombay Sapphire, Johnnie Walker Blue Label, Carthusian monks, or drinking and driving. (Seriously, Freed should not be behind the wheel!)  
_


	5. Supplies and Surprise

Chapter 5

**Supplies and Surprise**

As they drove on, Laxus kept one hand pressed against his mouth. In spite of the music, his stomach jolted with the motion of the car, the blurring of the passing scenery, and occasional stops and starts as they reached traffic lights.

"Hold up. Stop here, this shopping center," he suddenly mumbled.

Freed looked over. Laxus was pale. He figured that maybe the man just needed some air and to rest, so he gently pulled the car over to a parking lot with a galleria of boutiques and other quaint shops. As soon as the engine turned off, Laxus got out of the car and began to walk away. Worried, Freed scurried out and followed.

"Wait, where are you going?" he cried out.

"I need a moment to rest my stomach, and you need supplies."

"Huh?"

Laxus glanced back, and there was a smile on his gruff face. "You're new to this. You don't have anything, do you?"

Freed froze and gulped hard. "S-s-supplies?"

Laxus chuckled and kept walking. Freed hurried after him. Finally, near the back of the galleria, he saw a store that was actually open, although it was after 2AM.

"W-wait! That's … it's … it's a…"

"A sex shop," Laxus nodded. "It's fine. I know one of the workers."

Freed had checked out the "adult" section in the library once in college, but he had never entered a sex shop. Fretfully, he continued on and entered just behind Laxus. Inside the store, the lights were dim, the walls were painted black with red highlights, and there were shelves upon shelves of items.

"I wanna pick up something," Laxus told him. "Browse around. If you want anything in particular, better buy it now. I told you, you provide your own stuff."

"B-but … I…" Laxus took off before Freed could speak clearly. He was left by the entrance, alone and nervous. "I don't even know what to get," he whispered.

Freed gawked as he shuffled slowly through the aisles. There was a full wall of dildos of every shape and size (and some that were outright terrifying!) Strap-ons, masturbation sleeves, anal beads, butt plugs, two-way dildos, blowup dolls, handcuffs, whips, crops, clamps, anything and everything he had ever seen used in online porno movies was all crammed into this tiny store. Most of the items were clothes: frilly lingerie, sexy schoolgirl and naughty nurse costumes, even hardcore BDSM bondage gear. He looked at one area that seemed innocent, what looked like candy and boardgames, until he realized they were lolli-cocks, gummy boobies, and sexual favor games. He quickly dropped the penis-shaped dessert and backed away.

He was amazed to see a corner of the store that appeared to be a library, with plush chairs and a reading lamp. This looked the most relaxing and least perverted, so he walked over there. The books, however, consisted of _The Kama Sutra_, _The Joy of Sex_, _The Perfumed Garden_, _The Mirror of Coitus_, _The Tao of Love and Sex_, _Tantric Sex for Lesbians_, _Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex: But Were Afraid to Ask_, and he was not at all surprised to find _Fifty Shades of Grey_, _Delta of Venus_, and _The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty_.

Freed sat in one of the chairs and gazed around, truly in over his head. He might have been frequenting a strip club for months now, but this was still far more than he had ever considered.

Suddenly, something caught his attention. He looked around frantically to see if anyone was around. There was a lady at the cash register playing on her phone, two ladies checking out the dildo display, and one man studiously searching between condom brands. Freed bit his lip, slipped silently off the chair, and weaved through the racks of sexy costumes and foreplay toys. He saw a riding crop hanging on a hook. Freed used to go riding on his family's estate. It was considered an appropriate past time for the son of a rich businessman. Even back then as a child, Freed sometimes flicked the riding crop against his own leg, feeling a thrill at the light pain.

"Good choice."

Freed screamed and leaped around, making everyone in the store look over to him.

Laxus laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Easy there, Greenie. Does this interest you?"

Freed's shaking hands had gripped the riding crop so hard, the flexible stick was bowed. "It … it's … a good crop. Good quality."

He heard the two girls whisper to one another, "Omigosh, he is such a stereotypical uke. It's adorable!"

"Yeah, and look at the seme! Oh man, if I was into guys, I would want him."

Laxus rolled his eyes at their whispers but otherwise ignored them. "You gonna get it?"

Freed looked at the crop. "Can … can you use it?"

"I'm damn good at it."

He gulped thickly. "Then, this. It's not that expensive, either." He saw Laxus already had an opaque black bag. "What did you get?"

"This?" He shook the bag, then he leaned in close and whispered, "You get to find out soon."

Freed gulped hard and hoped that no one would care if he got a little erect in a shop like this.

"You might want lube," Laxus suggested. He went ahead, reached to a shelf, and pulled down a bottle of anal lubricant. "Oh, and … um … this." He plucked out something else.

"What is that?" Freed asked suspiciously.

Laxus glanced down at him. "Have you ever had someone play with you _down there_?"

Freed blushed heavily. "N-no, not really."

Laxus showed him the box. "Enema. It'll help."

"Oh!" he squeaked. He had read websites that mentioned that.

"Hmm … maybe a toy?" Laxus asked, eying the shelves and ignoring the look of blended horror, arousal, and uncertainty in the young, green-haired man. "I'm not sure what you're wanting."

"Me neither," he mumbled, looking around at all the possibilities. It was intensely intimidating.

"Get a cock ring, at least. You have that … _issue_."

Freed blushed heavily, being reminded of how he came so quickly earlier that night.

"Hey, don't worry," Laxus smiled, wrapping an arm around his thin shoulders. "We're gonna work on that, right?"

"R-right," he muttered.

"A cock ring will help. Let's see … not metal, those are a bitch. We don't need a vibrating one or anything weird. Here." He pulled off a small box with a picture of a simple circle. "Stretchy, so it won't hurt. You're not packing a monster in there, are you?"

"Packing a…? Oh!" he cried out, realizing what Laxus meant. "Uh … no, wish I was, haha!" He laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head, but then he realized he was acting like a nervous idiot. "Um, no, I'm pretty average in size, I guess."

"Good. Being large in girth means a lot of toys just don't work."

Freed dared to tease this thunder god. "Are you saying that out of experience?"

Laxus glanced down, once again amused that this mouse sure knew when to bite. "Actually, yeah."

Freed's tongue dragged over his lip as he thought about what sort of _package _Laxus must have. If all went well tonight, he would find out.

"Ready to go?"

Oh _God_, was he ready!

Freed paid for his items. He feared the cashier might glance at him and Laxus in bawdy amusement. Instead, she rang up the merchandise as if he was buying milk and bread. He supposed, compared to some of the items in the store, a riding crop and cock ring were really tame. They put their purchases in the back of the car, and Freed continued down the road.

It was only a few minutes before they saw the large hotel. Freed parked, they took their bags, and they walked in. Rather than some dusty lobby with spiderwebs and flickering neon lights, the entryway to the Hilton was posh, and the nightwatch worker somehow had a beaming smile despite it being two in the morning. Freed ordered a room with a single queen-size bed. It was the cheapest that had a wet bar, and he figured they would probably not be doing much sleeping in that room. He really wished the rest of the world would adopt the Japanese custom of love hotels.

They rode an elevator to get to the floor. Freed twitched his fingers, a nervous habit he had in elevators.

"Relax," Laxus said soothingly. "We won't do anything you don't want."

Freed was about to assure him that his twitching was not about what was to come, but he realized that he really was feeling anxious deep down inside. He was heading to a hotel room with the man he had fantasied about for months. He had never had a sexual encounter with another person, nothing beyond making out with boys, and certainly nothing like what he was about to experience.

They arrived, he used an electronic key to enter, and he turned the lights on in the hotel room. It was more spacious than he had thought it would be, and they were near the top floor, high above the city. Laxus immediately checked out the wet bar and found it nicely stocked. He offered to get a bucket of ice from the disperser machine down the hall. While he was gone, Freed went to the restroom, used the enema, and made sure he was clean down there. He was still wearing Laxus' boxers and the borrowed trousers. He would have to give those back.

Once he was done, he walked to the large window and peered down at the empty streets. This whole night felt surreal. It was a dream, right? He was at home, fantasizing about "Thor" again, that stripper with the lightning bolt scar.

He heard the door behind him open, and in walked his thunder god. Freed's heart raced. This was no nighttime fantasy. Thor was Laxus. Laxus was about to give Freed his first taste of BDSM. No sex, just kinks. Merely watching the hulking man walk around aroused him.

"Need a drink?" Laxus asked as he pulled out two tumblers and filled them with ice from the bucket.

"Nothing strong," Freed whispered.

"You sound like you need a strong one."

"No, I've drunk enough tonight. I shouldn't have even been driving, but I figured if you get carsick, you probably wouldn't want to drive."

"Never learned how, to be honest." Laxus opted for some straight up spiced rum. He then made Freed a Cuba Libre, with Coke and white rum. "Cheers."

"_Kanpai_," Freed smiled, clinking glasses before sipping the alcoholic soda. "So, how does something like this start out? Do I just get naked? Do we make out? No kissing allowed? Can we work up to it?"

"Dunno," Laxus shrugged languorously. "I work differently depending on the client. Usually, I take charge right away, order them around, demand that they prepare themselves, and humiliate them the whole time. Wanna try that?"

"I … I dunno. Maybe?"

"Or we can ease into it."

"Y-yeah," he nodded, gripping the highball glass to keep from shaking.

A large hand stroke down his hair. "Relax, kid."

"I'm … I've never—"

"You don't have to worry about anything. Surrender everything to me. I'll take care of everything. I'll tell you what to do. Don't think. Just obey me."

Freed looked up in surprise. Obey him? As he gazed into those electric blue eyes, he wanted to worship this thunder god.

"I'll obey," he whispered obediently.

"Good boy," Laxus smiled. "First, close the curtains. I'm not here to give a show."

Freed felt numb as he stood, set his glass aside, and walked to the window. He looked out at the _real world _one last time. Closing off these curtains was not just to give them privacy. It was to separate them completely from life outside this hotel room. He was willingly trapping himself in a fairy tale land.

"Good. Have you used the enema?"

"Y-yes," he muttered, feeling embarrassed.

"Good. Now, stand beside the bed and face me."

Laxus leaned back in a chair as he watched Freed obeying his orders. He liked being able to demand others to obey his whims. In real life, he had a shitty childhood, a shitty teenage life, and now he worked a shitty job with a shitty boss who had threatened to fire him more times than Laxus could count. Here, he ruled. His orders were absolute. _He _was the boss. He was a _god_, and this was his realm! Laxus liked the feeling of that power.

"Remove your socks and shoes," he said, and he took a sip of the spiced rum as he waited. "Now your shirt." He liked the blush on Freed's cheeks as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, slipped it off thin but toned arms, and set it aside. "Now your belt, but leave your pants on."

Freed gulped as he threaded his leather belt out from his pants.

"Hand it to me." Laxus stuck his hand out, and Freed obediently delivered the belt into that massive palm. "See, obeying me is easy, right?"

Freed meekly whispered, "Yes."

"Say, _yes sir_."

"Yes … sir."

"Good. You will address me as sir. Or do you prefer _master_?"

"I … I … uh…" Freed dropped his head. "Sir is fine for now."

"Of course it is. Now, fetch the bag I bought, but don't peek."

Freed walked barefoot and shirtless to the black bag. He felt there were a few items in there.

"This isn't just for you," Laxus clarified sternly. "It's something I've been meaning to get for months, and this is just a good excuse. Got it?"

"Right," he nodded. He should not expect that Laxus would buy something just for him.

Laxus reached into the black bag and pulled out two boxes. One looked like some sort of control system, and Freed saw from the picture on the front, it was almost like a remote control, but with disk-shaped pads like something a doctor would hook up to monitor the heart. When Laxus pulled out the other box, Freed coughed in surprise.

"That's … it … it's a—"

"Butt plug," Laxus smirked, and he handed the box to Freed. "I warned you to buy lube, right? But this isn't some average lump of silicone to shove up your ass. It attaches to this," he said, holding up the first box. "Do you know what this is?"

Freed had no clue. The box only said ElectroStim Ero-Controller.

"You're into sports, or at least fencing. Ever been injured and had a physical therapist put on electrical stimulators to massage the muscles?"

"Yes, it happened when I injured my elbow a couple years ago."

"Same concept, but instead of hooking up to some pads that go on your arm, this hooks up to that," he said, nodding to the butt plug box still in Freed's hands.

"It … zaps you?" he asked in a breathy whisper. "In- … inside?" He felt the blood rushing south really fast.

"That's right," Laxus chuckled. "I'm not gonna fuck you. I'm gonna watch this give you the tingling prostate massage of your life, and with this controller, I'll be able to adjust how much electricity you get. I won't let you come. Not until sunrise. That was the deal, right?"

"I feel like I could come just thinking about it," Freed admitted.

"I won't _let _you." Laxus' eyes were hard. "Starting right now, I'll be that thunder god you thought I was all this time. I'll zap your ass, and I'll train you to obey me. Ooh yes," he chuckled, watching the shock in Freed's face. "This is gonna be fun."

**Next Chapter: "Electric Blue"**

* * *

_A/N: All of the books in the sex shop's library are real. I do not promote any of those books, but I recommend almost all of them ... except "Fifty Shades of Grey," unless you're a masochist._


	6. Electric Blue

Chapter 6

**Electric Blue**

Freed thought Laxus would immediately start to do something. Instead, the blond sat in a chair, fingers together with his chin resting on the tips, staring at Freed. Those electric blue eyes were so potent, Freed felt himself blushing hard. He looked away uncomfortably.

"What's wrong?" asked Laxus.

"N-nothing. Just … you're staring."

"I'm thinking."

"About what?"

"What I should do with you first." He continued to stare, and Freed felt tiny as he was scrutinized. "Does this make you uncomfortable?" Laxus asked in amusement. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable around me. Not just from this. To assure you, I'm clean."

Freed looked up in surprise. "Wh-what? Clean?"

"I figure you might be worried about that sort of thing, especially considering my profession. I don't do drugs, and you know what my sex life is like. Still, Jellal has us tested once a month, some law I guess. None of his strippers are allowed to have an STD. We'd get fired. Our tests were last week. I'm clean. I've never had an STD in my life."

"Oh!" Freed had not even been thinking about that sort of thing, but he belatedly realized that this was really important. After all, strippers had reputations. "Um, me neither. Well, I can't say I get tested, but … before today … a-and I don't do drugs. Well, once there was that frat party with the marijuana, but besides that—"

"Shut up already."

"Ah! Y-yes, sir."

"What party?" Laxus demanded.

"It was, um, a party on my campus. Some Greek-letter fraternity, I'm not even sure which, a friend dragged me there. It ended up out of hand, kinda turned into an orgy."

"Did anyone do anything to you?"

"I got felt up by a girl just before bolting out of the dorm."

"Bitch," Laxus grumbled. Freed was amused to see him looking jealous. "Do girls often flirt with you?"

"I'm not sure I'd say it happens _often_…"

"Don't go to parties like that anymore," Laxus snapped. "College frat parties and drugs … too much trouble could happen."

"I don't do that anymore," he assured. Still, this jealous side was amusing. "You can't really order me not to do it, anyway." He knew he sounded flippant, but he wanted to tease his thunder god just a little.

Laxus finally stood and strode up to him. He glared down hard, and Freed cowered before those predatory eyes. "If I said don't do it, then don't do it."

Freed felt like the air had been sucked out of his lungs. "Y-yes, sir." Right at that moment, he felt like if Laxus had ordered him not to breathe, he would have died of asphyxiation.

"Remove your clothes."

Freed gasped as his heart surged. It was about to happen!

"Now!" came a quiet but forceful order.

Freed slowly undid his pants and stripped off the last of his clothes. He gulped as he stood there, completely naked. He almost wanted to cover himself, hide his shame, but a small part of him also wanted Laxus to see and approve of him.

"You actually look good," Laxus said, as good of a compliment as he would dole out. "Now, walk over to the bed. Lie just the top of your body down."

Shaking with the thrill of this perversion, Freed walked to the luxurious bed and laid his torso down with his feet still on the floor.

"Spread your legs a little." He obeyed the order. "Hands out in front of you." Again, he followed the commands and stretched his hands above his head. He heard Laxus striding forward slowly. "Going to frat parties, huh? Aren't you a college student? Shouldn't you be studying? Yet here you are, partying, going to strip clubs, propositioning strippers—"

"I didn't—"

There was a whistle through the air, and something smacked him on the butt. Freed gasped and stared straight ahead, trying to sort out what just happened. That … was a riding crop. Laxus had just whipped him. It took him a moment to even process this fact. Freed had never even been spanked in his life. His parents firmly did not agree with the practice of physically punishing children. So the strike shocked him.

"How many university parties have you been to?"

Adrenaline made Freed shiver. "I … I don't know. Um … less than ten?"

"Less than ten, huh? Shall we make it nine?"

"Huh?"

Laxus chuckled softly and leaned in close to Freed's ear. In a sinful whisper, he explained, "I'm punishing you."

"O-oh!" Punishing! Being scolded, being upbraided, belittled, humiliated, whipped into obedience: there was no longer any doubt in Freed's mind. He was definitely into this sort of perverted thing. "Um … well, in that case, can we round it up and make it ten?"

"Heh! Masochist."

The riding crop struck him so suddenly, Freed cried out with a high yelp. He was instantly humiliated by the distinctly unmasculine sound.

"Are you okay?" Laxus asked with wry amusement.

"Just … didn't expect it."

"It's best that way." He cracked the riding crop over Freed's bare ass again. "But seriously, if I hit you too hard, you gotta tell me."

"I'm fine, really."

"You won't be later. Think of a word, one you'll remember, but one you don't use often."

"Huh?"

"You need a safeword. It shouldn't be a word you'd use casually, though. It's something you only say if what I do is way too much. I won't stop if you tell me to stop, but I absolutely will if you use the safeword."

"Okay. I … I've read about safewords. Um … something I would remember … ah! _Écriture_."

Laxus arched an eyebrow. "The hell sorta word is that?"

"French," he shrugged meekly. "It means _writing_. I … I kinda … like writing stuff."

"Only a pretty rich boy like you would use some foreign word like that." Laxus whacked the crop against him again. "Trying to make me look dumb?" He let the crop fly again, whipping Freed on the butt.

"Ahhh! N-no, I'm not … I didn't mean—"

"It's a nice sound, you speaking French." Laxus whispered again into his ear. "Maybe I should push your limits just so I can hear it again."

He slapped even harder, and Freed shouted. That time, it really hurt. However, Laxus struck again, and the sting pierced deep into Freed. He clutched at the bed cover.

"S-stop," he gasped.

The leather tongue of the riding crop struck again, almost shattering him. "I said I wouldn't stop if you say stop. Only the safeword. Is it really too much to handle? If it is, you gotta use that word."

Was it? It hurt, his ass stung, but he also liked this. It was supposed to hurt. That was the whole point. How much was too much?

The crop struck again, like a firebrand against already raw skin. Freed cried out at the pain, but he struggled to hold it in. Then another struck, much harder than all the others. This time, Freed's knees buckled under him. He slid to the floor, sobbing into the bed.

"_Écriture_," he groaned. He understood fully now what _too much_ felt like.

Arms grabbed him. He flinched, fearing more punishment, but instead Laxus placed him gently on top of the bed.

"I told you, nine was enough. Ten was too much. Also, sorry if that was mean of me. I need to test your limits, though. I also really need to make sure you know how to use a safeword. That's important. Are you okay?"

Hardly thinking, Freed grabbed onto Laxus and clutched to him as he cried. To his amazement, Laxus stroked down his long, green hair.

A low but protective rumble purred out of that large chest. "It's over. It's safe."

"It … hurt," Freed sobbed.

"Of course it did." The words were quiet, not mocking, not hurtful, just stating a fact. "Should we stop now?"

The trembling slowly faded, and with its passing, Freed felt something more, something warm and gentle, like pure liquid happiness flowing through his veins, filling him up from the inside. He raised his eyes into a gaze as warm and blue as a summer sky.

"No. More."

Laxus had a surprisingly gentle smile. "Not many ask for more the first day."

Freed's brow creased distastefully. "Can you not talk about others when you're with me?"

"Fine. Same goes for you, though. No more talking about frat parties and flirty college girls."

"Agreed."

"It's just us when we're in this room. Nothing else exists."

Freed felt that liquid happiness gushing outward from his heart. "That's what I want," he whispered, closing his eyes and surrendering to the emotions. "Nothing else. Just this."

Laxus gazed at the young man's thin lips. "Just you and me." His eyes softened as he watched the parted lips and the way Freed's gasps and slowing sobs passed over his mouth. Laxus began to lean in, but suddenly he pulled back. Freed's eyes were shut, so he did not see the shock and confusion in the burly man's face. Laxus looked aside, scowling at himself. Then he glanced back over, and his eyes went tender again.

"You're already panting a lot. Your throat must be dry. Would you like a drink?"

"Yes, please."

"Hmm … nope, I don't like that."

Freed dared to look up, shocked that Laxus disapproved.

"How about this? I read it in a book once. You like books, yes?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"When I ask if you want something, you have two ways to answer. If the answer is yes, say 'Only if it pleases you, sir.' If the answer is no, say 'Not unless it pleases you, sir.' So … would you like a drink?"

"Only if it pleases you, sir."

"Lovely," Laxus smiled. He rose and walked over to the glasses set on a dresser. Laxus grabbed the tumbler, took a sip for himself, and walked back to the bed with the glass in his hand. "Get ready for it."

Freed sat up, expecting to take the glass. Instead, Laxus took another drink and held the liquid in his cheeks. He tipped Freed's head up, leaned over him, and placed his lips over Freed's. The green-haired man gasped, and just then Laxus let the alcohol flow down into the waiting mouth. The potency of the spiced rum was nothing compared to the firmness of Laxus' lips. Freed had pretty much surrendered any hopes that romance could be involved, but this … it was sweet, in its own way.

Laxus pulled back and smiled down at the complaisant face. "Was that good?"

"Y-yes, sir," he said in a daze.

"Do you want more?"

"Um, not unless it pleases you, sir."

"Very good." He lightly slid his thumb over Freed's lip to wipe away a drop. He paused at the action, and with another scowl he drew his hand back. "Damn you," he whispered.

Freed jolted out of his haziness. Was Laxus angry? Why?

Laxus set the tumbler on the nightstand and rose again to walk over to the gifts he had bought. "Are you ready to try this?"

Freed choked up. He tried to find words, but his mind was too scrambled.

"Hey. We don't have to."

"No, just … I … I've never…" He blushed heavily and looked away. "I've never put something like _that_ up there." He cringed and pulled into a ball. "Does it hurt?"

"It can," Laxus said honestly. "No more than taking a really constipated dump. If it hurts too much, tell me. It shouldn't be truly painful. If it is, something could be the matter, and we'd need to stop."

"The matter?" he asked sharply. "Why? What could happen? Is it safe? Has anything bad ever happened?"

"We promised not to talk about others. Do you really wanna know?"

"Tell me! Um, please, sir?"

Laxus folded his arms and spoke with little emotion besides disgust. "I had a client who apparently had a polyp in his colon. He had me use a plug on him, didn't tell me it was hurting, bastard never did use a safeword, until suddenly I saw blood and pus pouring out of his asshole. I had to call an ambulance and hurry out of there. I left him with the plug still up him so he wouldn't bleed out. I bet he had a hell of a time explaining that to the paramedics."

"What happened to him?"

"Dunno, don't care. He lived, still wanted more. I refused to take him back. I was vomiting off and on for a week by just the memory of it. I don't ever want to see something like that again. That's when I decided any clients need to know how the hell to use a safeword, and if they get hurt beyond repair, I'm outta there. I won't stick around to face police questioning."

"Sheesh! Has anyone ever actually tried to sue you?"

"I've heard that one called the South Pole Club, but Jellal doesn't give out our names, and I'm usually careful about not letting anyone know me. Even my coworkers don't know my last name, only Jellal, and only because it's on my employee forms. Besides, a lawsuit with a stripper who you hired from a gay strip club to be your personal sadist? Not exactly the type of publicity these sorts of men want."

"I … I wouldn't do that!" Freed shouted loyally.

"You better as hell not! I know your full name. One phone call from me to your parents, and I can guarantee you'll not receive a penny of your inheritance."

"Like I even care about that," Freed muttered. "Still, I wouldn't. I know what I'm getting into. So long as you stop when I say so, so long as you don't do anything I don't actually want, I won't complain."

"Good. Right now, I'm asking if you want this." He held up the butt plug again.

Freed stared at it with trepidation, but when he looked into Laxus' blue eyes, he knew he could trust this man.

"Only if it pleases you, sir!"

Laxus smirked and began to open the box.

Freed kept his gaze averted, hoping that if he did not look, he would not get too scared. He had used his fingers before, but never a sex toy. It was scary, but also there was a thrill to it. Laxus had purchased this just for him. He wanted to use this special gift bought by a man he had secretly lusted over for months.

When something touched his shoulder, Freed jolted and gulped down a shriek.

"Easy there," Laxus said softly. "I won't let it hurt, okay? I figured this might be an issue, since you're completely inexperienced. I'll do something I normally never do; I'll prep you myself."

"Prep?" Freed suddenly realized Laxus was wearing latex gloves. "What…?"

"We'll take it slow."

Freed was still confused, until Laxus pulled forward the bottle of lubricant and drizzled it onto his gloved hand.

"Oh! Prep," he gasped softly as it dawned on him. "Yeah, that … maybe that will help."

"Of course it will," Laxus said flatly. "Face up or face down?"

"I … um … c-can I look up? If I see you, I'll be calmer." He was surprised to hear Laxus chuckle. "What?"

"Most people feel too ashamed to show their face to me. They want it face-down. You think seeing me will calm you? You're a weird one."

"Your eyes are … calming," Freed muttered, pouting at being called weird.

"Then look up at me."

Freed gazed up into that face. The scar running down one eye caught his attention for a moment, as it always did, but then the intense color of his irises sucked him in. He felt Laxus touch his asshole. He flinched in a moment of embarrassment and panic, yet when he looked up again, those electric blue eyes calmed him.

"You really are something, Greenie."

"Freed," he breathed faintly, waiting for more.

Laxus gave a silent chuckle. "Freed," he whispered, and slowly his finger pressed in.

Freed moaned loudly.

"Don't clench."

He panted as he tried to calm down.

"Better. Stay loose and it won't hurt."

Once as a child, Freed had such a horrible fever, he needed a suppository. He would not say that was when he realized he was gay, he was too young to know things like that, but it was definitely the first time he realized he liked the feel of something up his ass. He had hazy memories of being scolded harshly as a tiny child for poking himself in the butt. His parents said it was dirty, disgusting, and Freed figured they were right. Poop came out of there, and even a six-year-old knew that poop was dirty. As he reached puberty, he did research online, innocent searches for what these things were he heard about in school, or desires he had that made no sense to his naïve mind. Somewhere along the way, he accidentally discovered a gay porn site.

Freed had seen boys at school with naughty magazines, or internet ads for hot ladies looking for a good time. He was never interested in girls, but when he saw those two men together, he was so aroused, he came without even touching himself.

He felt guilty. He knew what people said about homosexuals, and at least once a month there was news of a gay person coming under attack, or other countries oppressing homosexuals. He did not want to be hated. At one of his parents' numerous parties, he overheard gossip about one of the other upper class families who disowned a son when he came out as being gay. Freed did not want trouble with his family. He was indifferent about his parents at that point, but he did not want Evergreen and Bickslow to suffer public humiliation just because of him.

He visited gay sites covertly and kept his orientation a close secret. His late-night wanking sessions had to be done quickly, before anyone suspected. Maybe it was years of jerking off as fast as possible that led him to have issues with premature ejaculation. He also read it could be emotional, a feeling of shame and guilt. He had no clue, but as a teen, being able to come in just a few minutes was an advantage. It was not until college, an incident of coming in his pants when two girls at a party were watching yaoi anime, that Freed realized this was a real issue.

And then earlier tonight … again…

"Laxus!"

A hand choked his penis, and the finger that had been wiggling inside came to a stop.

"I won't let you come," Laxus said forcefully.

Freed felt almost on the brink, but the grip, almost painful but not quite, stopped him.

"You're just really sensitive," Laxus realized. "I bet almost anything can affect you."

He leaned over and merely blew across Freed's nipple. The lithe body arched up with a quivering cry.

"Yep, like I thought. You've never really been touched, have you?"

Freed looked away with humiliation. "I've done … stuff. Not like this, though."

"Heh! That innocent side of you is cute."

Freed looked up in shock. "Cute?"

A second later, Laxus looked stunned as he realized what he had just said.

"Laxus," Freed whispered. "Will you train my body?"

"Oh shit, do _not_ say it like that!"

"Like what?"

"Sexy!" he snapped. "Like you want me to devour you."

"I do," he answered honestly.

Laxus looked away with a bright blush. "What is it about you?" he grumbled. "I'm not even fuckin' gay, but you…" His voice trailed off.

"Maybe you're bisexual and just never knew it."

"Nah, I've watched plenty of porn. Only thing that ever did it for me was hardcore BDSM."

"Then maybe it's mental. Maybe because you know you're going to do stuff to me."

"I do this shit all the time," he snapped.

"To old men who repulse you," Freed pointed out. "When was the last time you were ever intimate with someone your age?"

Laxus grumbled something.

"What?"

"I said _not since high school_, all right!" he barked.

"Really?"

"What's it to you?" he said angrily to cover his embarrassment.

"They were probably all girls, right?"

"Thinking back, yeah."

"So, you've never been with a young man."

"Guess not."

"I'm your first."

Laxus looked petulant and said nothing.

"Laxus, put two fingers in."

"What? But, you're ready to come from just this."

"Even if I do, it's okay."

"No, it's not! I said I wouldn't let you until sunrise."

"Please, Laxus," he begged. "If it pleases you, sir, I need more."

"Fuck you," he whispered, but Laxus slid a second finger in anyway.

The pain did just what Freed figured it would. It withered him just a little, just enough, so he no longer felt the need to come.

"P-pain," he shuddered.

"If it hurts too much—"

"No!" he shouted. "Pain … makes it better. Takes it away."

"What away?"

"The need … to hurry." His eyes looked up with tears moistening the corners. "Make it hurt more, please, sir."

"Fuck," Laxus hissed. He pressed the fingers in harder, and Freed cried out. "Pain makes it _better_, huh? Do you have any clue how much pain I can give you?" He pumped the fingers in rapidly, then slowly spread his fingers until Freed moaned louder. "I could ram that butt plug in right now and make you sob like a child."

"Please…"

"Shut up! I could really hurt you bad, black and blue and bleeding. Do you want that, too?"

"Nnngh!"

"Don't moan in such a sexy way. Shit, I should have had you facing down."

"No! Wanna … wanna see you."

"Yeah, but then I have to see these faces you're making." He pulled his fingers out, rose off the bed, and walked away. "It's not fair."

Freed was panting and shocked that Laxus moved away so suddenly. "Wh-what? What i-isn't … f-fair?" he huffed through a dry throat.

"That with you, I can do _this_!" Laxus grabbed the glass of rum, took a drink, and pressed his lips against Freed's.

As the liquid poured into his mouth, Freed obediently swallowed. Then something else passed his lips, something soft that sent jolts through his whole mouth. His eyes opened wide as he realized Laxus was kissing him and using his tongue with such aggression, Freed could hardly even moan. His mouth was being assaulted by Laxus' tongue.

He remembered what Laxus said. He never kissed clients. He wondered if this thunder god had ever kissed at all before. By the firmness of the kiss and the powerful stroking of his tongue, he guessed Laxus at least had some experience with this much.

Laxus pulled up with flushed cheeks. "It's not fair that if I do just that much with you, it affects me."

Freed's eyes widened. "Affects you?"

"You have a horrible habit of repeating everything I say." He wiped the rum from Freed's lower lip. "Yeah, it affects me. Just feel."

At that, Freed felt those leather pants rub against him. He could feel the massiveness of something hard in there. He gasped and looked up into those blue eyes.

"You're…"

"Hard as a fucking rock," Laxus nodded with a sly smile. "Congrats, Greenie. You've made me insanely aroused."

"I have?"

"Yep. Sometimes, rarely, I've felt a little bit of arousal when I'm with a client, really hurting them, listening to them sob and scream. It's not really sexual arousal, though. More like an adrenalin rush."

"And this is?" Freed asked in astonishment.

"Hell if I know," Laxus mumbled. "I just have a feeling, if you keep this up, I'll be the one who can't make it until morning."

Freed remembered what Laxus had said earlier that night. Men and women normally did not make Laxus aroused. _He did_, though. He smiled weakly. It was like the ultimate compliment, to know he was pleasuring this thunder god.

"Do you want to keep going?" Freed asked him.

"Huh?" Laxus was not sure how Freed would react to this news, but he did not expect him to just brush it aside and continue. "Uh, only if you want it."

"I … y-yes. Can it be the butt plug now?"

"It can be anything you want, other than my tongue. I don't do that shit."

"I want to feel what you bought for me."

"Hey! I just happened to get it, understand."

Freed smiled at that gruffness. "Understood, master!"

"Oh?" Laxus asked drolly. "Is it _master_ now?"

"Oh! Should it be _sir_?"

"It can be whatever the hell you want."

"I think … um … maybe I like master."

Laxus took the riding crop and lifted Freed's chin with it. "Is that what my little slave wants?" he asked softly, sadistically, but those electric blue eyes were gentle with amusement.

"If it pleases you, master."

Laxus chuckled, and pink colored his cheeks. "Not fucking fair!"

**Next Chapter: "Sparks Inside"**

* * *

_A/N: Laxus' request for how Freed should approve or disapprove was inspired by "The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty" by Anne Rice.  
_

_"Écriture" is the name of Freed's magic._


	7. Sparks Inside

_A/N: The item described in this chapter is based upon the Prostata Milking Orgasmo 300. (Don't you love the name!) For a picture, see here:  
**goo. gl/Aej7U8** (remove spaces)  
_

_BondageBox and Wasteland are real websites and not meant for anyone under legal age. Seriously! Hardcore shit! I do not promote or represent either website.  
_

* * *

Chapter 7

**Sparks Inside**

Freed watched with interest as Laxus connected cords to the black butt plug, as well as attaching metal clasps to six disk-shaped pads. It looked complicated, with clamps and cords all over the bed like a sci-fi experiment.

"Have you ever done this before?" he asked worriedly.

"Yes," was all Laxus said.

"I … I see," he muttered. He guessed it was a client, so he did not want to ask more.

"If you really don't like it, we can stop," Laxus assured him. Then he looked up with a sparkle in his eyes. "But I think you'll love it."

Freed was happy that Laxus wanted to please him, but he still felt worried about this strange form of sexual pleasure. "Is it safe?"

"Even if I turn it to the highest setting, it won't kill you. Remember, these things were originally designed for medicinal use. Now, lie back. It took longer to set up than I thought, so I'm going to prep you again." He walked over to where he had removed the latex gloves and pulled them back on.

"Why gloves?" Freed asked.

"I'm touching your ass. Do you think I want your shit under my fingernails?"

"O-oh," he stuttered, feeling embarrassed for asking.

"It's just a safety precaution," Laxus explained as he drizzled lube onto the glove's fingers. "If I were to accidentally scratch you inside, it could get infected. If I have a hangnail—which I do right now—it could get germs in the wound, and my whole finger would swell up. This is just safer and cleaner."

"I get it," he whispered. Again, Laxus knew so much, whereas he had never had someone else touch his genitals before.

Laxus' free hand stroked back Freed's hair. "Relax," he said gently.

Freed felt a finger squeeze in. Again, he flinched at first, but the stroking on his head and the soothing gaze in Laxus' eyes calmed him.

"Very good," Laxus praised. "More?"

"Yes … um, if it pleases you, master."

"It does," he said. "More than I like to admit."

Freed looked up in surprise, but just then a second finger wiggled in, stretching with just a little pain.

"Relax into it. Loosen up. Just relax and let me do the work."

Freed leaned back, breathing through the discomfort. He felt cold liquid as Laxus applied more lube. Then slowly, being gentle, Laxus began to slide his fingers back and forth.

"Ah … ahhhhhh!" Freed cried out, arching at the pleasure.

"Yes, you're gonna love this," Laxus chuckled.

"I'm … oh God … hurt me. Somehow. Please!" Freed screamed as he felt the beginnings of a surging sensation.

Laxus yanked Freed's legs apart with his free hand and bit deeply into the inner thigh. Freed screamed at the pain, and the sensation of needing to ejaculate faded.

Laxus looked down at the teeth marks in Freed's pale thigh. "Ooh, that's gonna leave a bruise. Sorry about that."

"No," Freed panted. "It worked."

"Pain helps, huh?" Laxus asked with intense amusement.

Freed nodded. "It stops it."

"Normally for masochists, pain makes it more intense."

"It is intense. Too intense. It backfires and makes me stop feeling like I have to come fast."

"Masturbated a lot as a kid, huh?"

Freed blushed, looked aside, and mumbled, "Probably no more than normal boys."

"I bet you whacked off three times a day."

"N-no! Well, not _every_ day."

"Once a day?"

"Um … maybe … once or twice?"

"Every fucking day? Damn! Do you know how often I jerked off? Take a guess."

"I … I dunno."

"Guess!" he barked.

Freed gulped hard. "Every other day?"

"You wish! In high school, probably once a week, if even that often. After high school, way less than that. I once went a year and didn't need it. It's been a lot more lately, though," he said casually as he added a third finger. Freed jolted under him with a shuddering cry. "Maybe three months ago, the need really began to increase. I started to watch a lot more porn to take care of things. Now, maybe twice a week I'm stroking off to BondageBox and Wasteland-dot-com. I'm not sure why it's increasing. After tonight, I might end up as horny as you. Twice a day! Shit! You really are one perverted rich boy."

Freed felt ashamed by the humiliation of his insults … and he loved it! "I … I don't do it that often nowadays," he protested.

"When was your last time?"

Freed hesitated on telling him, blushing fiercely and looking aside.

"Tell me!" Laxus twisted his fingers inside, getting Freed to cry out.

"I-I did before … before coming to the sh-show," he confessed.

"Really now? Do you always do that?"

"I … y-yes."

"And I bet you would have whacked off after the show tonight, too. Am I right?"

"I … I don't come to the club all the time."

"I know how often you come, _Greenie_. I see you in the audience."

Freed gasped softly. "You do? You've seen me?"

"You're avoiding the issue." Laxus leaned in close, almost nose to nose. "How often do you masturbate?"

Freed shuddered as he felt like he was being interrogated. "N-normally … I don't know. Mornings, in the shower. Sometimes, if my roommate is watching porn, we'll watch together, although he likes stuff I don't. Or if he's out, I watch my stuff on the internet."

"Gay porn?"

"Y-yes."

"BDSM?"

Freed cringed down in shame. "Y-yes."

"Every night?"

"Not every. Well, it's been more since I … I…" His words faded away.

"Since when?"

He bit his lower lip. "Since … since I saw you. At the club. I went just to see what it was like. I was gonna leave after the first dancer, but then … then you came out."

"Did you fantasize over me?"

Freed choked on a word.

"Tell me!" Laxus shouted, and he thrust his fingers in harder.

"Y-yes!" he cried out.

Laxus backed his fingers away to ease off the pain, and he stroked gently, soothing away the punishment with rewarding pleasure. "What did you think about?" He watched with amusement as Freed squirmed and looked ashamed. "Tell me. What did I do to you in your fantasies?"

"Th-this."

"Fingering you?"

"Y-yes."

"What else? What did you dream about while you stroked off to me?"

Freed choked on his words. "I … I wanted … t-to … s-s-suck … y-you."

"Tell me clearly."

Freed sniffled at the humiliation of admitting this to the man who had dominated his most arousing fantasies. "I want … to suck on … y-you."

Laxus licked his lips. "Do you really want that?"

"Yes," he whimpered.

Laxus rubbed up against Freed's body, letting the bulge in his pants press against the man's thigh. "Do you want _this_ in your mouth?"

"Yes!" he groaned hungrily.

Laxus laughed and shook his head. "Damn, I'm almost tempted to let you."

"Please!"

"How many blow jobs have you given?"

Freed opened his mouth, squawked out something, and then looked aside in shame. "None," he sighed. He was horrifically unprepared for any of this, no experience at all.

"Good." Laxus leaned over and kissed Freed's forehead. "I want to save at least one _first_ for next time."

"Next time?" Freed gasped, looking up hopefully. Did Laxus want this again?

"Unless you don't like this."

"I … I do so far."

"We've hardly begun. So, in your prolific masturbation sessions, did you ever finger yourself back here?" Laxus gave another deep thrust of his fingers.

"I … y-yes. Sometimes."

"Do you know how to reach … here?"

The fingers curled, and Freed felt a touch that sent his whole body jumping. "No! Oh God!"

Again, Laxus grabbed his cock, and at the same time he leaned over and bit Freed hard on the nipple. The pain soothed away the neediness, forcing his focus away from the trembling in his cock.

"Pain to calm you down, and you want this until sunrise. Shit, you really are something," Laxus chuckled slyly. "How about we give this thing a shot?"

He removed his fingers and pulled the glove off inside-out. He tossed it to the side and took up the black butt plug, slathering the whole plug with copious lube. It already had electrodes attached to it.

"Tell me if it's okay."

Laxus pressed the narrow tip against Freed's asshole, and slowly he eased it in. Freed went through all the relaxing and breathing he had just done as he was slowly spread open. The plug filled him, and just as he began to really hurt, suddenly it slipped into a divot.

"Very good. That's the worst of it. Congrats on your first time being penetrated by an inanimate object."

Freed blushed and looked away with a bashful pout.

"Now, let me put these on while you adjust to the size."

He placed the round pads onto Freed's nipples, then two more on his inner thighs, and two on the base of his penis. He then used the cock ring to hold the pads in place, wrapping the stretchy ring around the penis and balls.

"We'll start low." Laxus took the controller box and sat back to watch the show. He turned the power onto the absolute lowest setting.

Freed jolted as something tingled. His nipples, his inner thighs, his cock, and deep inside were all stimulated at the same time. Once the surprise faded, he let out a long, groaning moan of pleasure.

"I knew you'd like it," Laxus smirked. "But, I don't think I like your freedom. You could pull those off."

He turned to power back off, walked away to fetch Freed's belt, and brought it back over to the bed. He took the thin wrists trained for fencing and yanked them over Freed's head. He wrapped both wrists with the belt and tied him up to the headboard.

"Much better." Laxus gazed down at his bound and helpless victim. "Mmm, yes. Shit, you really do somehow make me aroused. Looking like this, I could fuck you."

Freed squirmed at the thought of it. To be taken and ravaged by this man … God, he wanted that!

"Ready for more?"

Freed was ready for anything!

Laxus took the controller and turned it on again. Electricity flowed into Freed's body in wavering pulses. They jolted him slowly at first, and inside, it truly felt like something was moving within, pounding, rippling through his innards. His cock was getting waves of pleasure, and his nipples almost stung with the sharp tingles.

"More," Freed shuddered.

"Say please," Laxus taunted.

"Please, master."

He increased the voltage just a little and watched with fascination. Freed pulled at the belt around his wrists and groaned in pleasurable discomfort. He began to squirm, and he almost closed up his legs. Laxus pressed the pale, slender thighs back apart.

"Don't do that. If you press the connectors together, that's not good."

"But it's … it's … _nnnngh!_"

"Intense, I know," Laxus said coolly. "Do you need to be tied down more?" Laxus glanced around the room. "Damn. Just my belt. You need some good rope for next time."

"N-Next time?" Freed panted. He said it again. _Next time!_

"Shut up." Laxus yanked his belt out from his pant loops and wrapped just one thigh, threading the belt through the buckle. He then knelt by the bed frame and tied the belt to the metal bar as good as he could. It was not the best way to bind someone, but it would work for a while. "Is that comfortable?"

"No, but it's not painful."

"Then it's perfect. Now, beg for more. Beg, bitch!" he smiled in amusement.

Freed shuddered at the harshness that somehow sounded so gentle. "If it pleases you, master, I want more. Please! Please, master! May I have more? It's so good. Master makes me feel so good."

Laxus flinched as those words sent a shock right down his own arousal. He turned up the knobs on the controller, and as Freed moaned without any restraint, Laxus reached down and deftly rubbed himself through his leather pants.

This was such a different experience for a man like Laxus. Growing up, he had never really found pleasure in things he knew should be erotic. Normal online pornography looked boring, nothing but repetitiously thrusting anatomy, and the gasps from the ladies were obviously fake. It annoyed him more than aroused him. Finding a girlfriend was not easy for a boy with a scar on his face. Still, he somehow managed to date a few girls in school. Although they were fun, and he got plenty of pleasure with them, he constantly worried that his strength might hurt them. Maybe it was due to what he saw his mother go through with his bastard father, but Laxus strongly felt he should not hurt a girl.

One day, when he was a senior in high school, he got an offer. A teacher named Mr. Jose Porla took notice of this large, fierce student with a dominant gaze. He negotiated to raise Laxus' grade for a _favor_. Laxus saw the aging instructor as purely disgusting, but he needed to pass the class. He agreed to hit the man, right there in the classroom, after school, the door shut and locked, with Jose spread on top of his own wide desk, pants dropped to his ankles. The only trick was, Jose had to honestly say he never had a student to _touch_ him. Instead, Laxus used a wooden ruler to spank the teacher's ass until he came, right there, cum splattered on his desk. Laxus worried that he might have honestly hurt his own teacher, but Jose kept insisting, a student could not _touch_ him. He took care of the cleanup himself and let Laxus go with a warning not to tell anyone about what happened, or he would flunk the class for sure. Laxus got a higher grade, and he realized something that day.

He liked to hurt people.

He got a similar offer during his first job, working as an electrician. The foreman cautiously flirted for weeks, and finally Laxus cut to the chase by asking directly what this man wanted. It was a simple arrangement. Once a month, while the man's wife was away at a church meeting, young Laxus would come over and punish the foreman using this same technique as now: erotic electrostimulation. He did not have to touch the man at all, just stand there, look dominating, insult him, humiliate him, and crank up the controller box until the man reached an orgasm. This arrangement lasted a year, making him quite a bit of money. The foreman introduced him to other like-minded men, each who had a masochistic need that Laxus blandly fulfilled.

He somehow moved up in the world of BDSM, learning tricks and techniques with each new client. He realized he could use his skill in dancing to make way more money than as an electrician. The South Pole Club opened a whole new clientèle. He hated all of them. He used them, abused them, left them, and despised each one of them. However, he felt himself _needing_ that sense of dominance, and he found pleasure in imagining his bastard father, how much he wanted to torment that asshole, and discovering the depth of pain he could inflict with men who paid him to go further and deeper into the abyss of painplay.

Someone once scolded him about the proper duties of a Dominant. _Fuck that_, he thought. He had no emotional attachment to any of these clients. They paid him, and he did what they paid for. No more. He did not bring the supplies, he did not deal with aftercare, and he did not care if the men refused to call back on him after being used and discarded so heartlessly. On the contrary, many of those old geezers liked the fact that Laxus treated them like disgusting shit.

He eventually realized that he simply did not care about sex. He hated those men, and he had not really enjoyed dating women, always feeling like he had to be careful around them. He figured he was the sort of person who just did not like or want sex.

Until now.

He briefly wondered, if he had messed around with boys as a teen, rather than ruining himself with old men, would this have happened? Would he have realized his sexuality earlier? What even was this? Bisexual? Demisexual? He hated labeling himself as anything. He just knew one thing:

He was seriously aroused around this green-haired man.

He turned the controller up a little more, and as the taut body arched with the added shocking pleasure, Laxus felt his cock aching.

Suddenly, he turned the power completely off. Freed sank a bit, panting rapidly, and opened his eyes in confusion.

"Don't you fucking move," Laxus said sharply. "I need to piss."

He set the controller down on the mattress and left to the restroom, slamming the door shut behind him. Immediately, he yanked his leather pants to his knees, grabbed his cock, and began to pump it into his hand.

This young man, someone still in university, a pretty rich boy with green hair and impeccable taste in clothes, _this man_ was driving Laxus insane. He slammed a hand against the wall as he stared down at his cock and stroked faster, needing this pressure to be relieved.

How was it that this man he had never spoken to before tonight could mess him up this potently? Was it because of his age? His looks? Was it mental, not thinking of Freed as a _client_, but as a…

As what?

What was he? Not a client. Not a boyfriend. Sure as hell not a lover. He was not even a _friend_. So what was he?

Laxus closed his eyes in frustration by all these random questions, yet all he could see in his imagination was Freed naked on the bed, his long and vibrantly green hair tussled, eyes moist and mouth parted as he breathed hard, his slender but muscular body twisting with pleasure. He had never fantasized about men before. Or about women, for that matter. Why did that man's body come to mind so easily now? What was it with Freed that messed up Laxus' mind so much?

_"Will you train my body?"_

_"If it pleases you, sir, I need more."_

_"I'm … oh God … hurt me. Somehow. Please!"_

_"It's so good. Master makes me feel so good."_

"Fuck!"

Laxus growled and gritted his teeth as he came, catching it with toilet paper. It was definitely the fastest masturbation he had ever experienced, because he had someone he could actually visualize. That never happened before. He had concepts he would think about, or videos of people being tormented erotically, but never a fantasy about someone specifically.

"What the hell is going on?" he whispered, wiping up his cock and tossing the wad of messy tissues into the toilet. "What's wrong with me? What is this?"

His mind provided answers, but he refused to think about it earnestly. In love? Fucking ridiculous! Discovering his inner gayness? If his brain was a person, he would have smacked the shit out of it for thinking something as stupid as that. So, what was this intense lust? He wanted this man, a feeling he never got with the men he beat up. The truly weird part was, he did not want to hurt this man, not to the point of being cruel, at least. He wanted to help him, and that happened to involve letting Freed experience pain.

"L-Laxus!" Freed cried out frantically.

He yanked his pants back up and ran out without even flushing the toilet. Freed was squirming on the bed.

"What the hell?" grumbled Laxus. He found the controller with the dial cranked up high. He quickly turned it down. "How the hell did that happen? You're still tied up!"

"I … wanted more," Freed panted, slowly recovering. "You were taking a while."

Laxus blushed. Even if he came quickly, it had still taken a couple of minutes. "How did you turn it on?"

Freed looked ashamed. "Um … my foot."

"You used your _foot_?" Laxus cried out, looking at the leg that he had not been able to tie down.

"I wanted it, but then I couldn't turn it off, and when I tried, my thigh jolted, and my toes slipped, and it turned up even higher."

A hand suddenly came at Freed, and he cringed. Instead of a strike to the face, his hair was yanked, pulling him up by the neck.

"Do you think that's funny? I told you not to move. Apparently, I have a little slave who can't obey one goddamn simple order."

"I … I'm sorry," Freed shivered. He cringed and looked up, awaiting punishment, secretly eager for it.

"You think you want to be punished, don't you?" Laxus said in wry amusement.

"I … _No!_ No, I … I wasn't thinking that."

"You're lying to your master now."

Laxus yanked the belts off Freed's thigh and wrists. They were a little pink, but not marked up. He ordered Freed to flip, and he helped him to lie down with the electrodes under his body. He squirmed uncomfortably, especially with his erection so stiff but being smashed down into the bed.

"Disobeying, lying: you really do need to be trained."

He heard Laxus pick something up. A few seconds later, his ass was smacked by the riding crop. Freed gave a soft cry that was muted into the pillows.

"Did you like it?" asked Laxus. When Freed said nothing, the blond whipped the crop across his ass again, eliciting another high yelp. "Be honest now."

"I … um…"

Laxus yanked Freed's long hair, pulling his face off the pillows. "Enunciate, bitch!"

"Y-yes," he cried out, cringing from the hair pulling. "I did, master. A lot. But it was too much and you weren't here, and I wanted you to be here. I want you … t-to watch me."

"Why?"

"B-because … I want to … to please m-master."

"Dammit," he whispered, releasing Freed's hair and letting his face flop back down into the soft pillows. He wondered how long his little relief session would last him before this man made him painfully aroused again. "How about this?"

He turned on only the power for the butt plug. Freed tensed up, and his hips lifted at the pleasure. Laxus reached down and palmed the plug in tighter.

"Ahhhhh!" Freed shuddered at the intensity.

"Is that good? You want to please me, right?" Laxus suddenly gave him an open-handed spank right over the butt plug, and Freed screamed into the pillow.

"No! Please, don't do that!"

"I don't obey you, little slave. You obey me. You follow my orders. You don't do something when I tell you not to. If I say _don't move_, you don't move. If I say _don't come_, you sure as hell are not allowed to come."

"No … I'm … L-Laxus!"

"I'm _master_ now, got it?"

"G-gonna—"

Before he could shout, all the electrodes went to full power. Lying on his chest meant more pressure against his skin, and the round pads pulsed through his nerves far stronger than when he was facing up. His body was jolted. Intensely painful yet pleasurable tingles burned his nerves and made his muscles contract so tightly, the need to come was crushed. Then, as quickly as it started, the jolting vanished, and Freed felt like he had fallen into a hole of dark, sinful pleasures.

"That seems to work well," Laxus said in amusement.

"Oh God, that was wonderful," Freed shivered sensually.

Laxus took his shoulder and helped Freed to turn back around. He readjusted some of the electrodes that shifted, and he untangled some wires. Freed still trembled, but he leaned into Laxus for moral support. Normally, when a client made a move of comfort like this, Laxus shoved them aside in disgust. This time, he cradled Freed and stroked back the sweaty green hair.

"We'll play slowly," he promised. "We have until morning. Just little bits at a time. I wanna see you last another—" He glanced at the clock. "—three hours to go. Think you can hold out that long?"

"I … want to." Those weary but lustful eyes turned up to him. "If it pleases you, master."

Laxus shifted his thighs again. This was going to be a torturous night for them both.

**Next Chapter: "****Thunderstorm Fading"**


	8. Thunderstorm Fading

_A/N: Many people have suggested a "theme song" for this fanfic, or what song Laxus strip dances to. AC/DC "Thunderstruck" is one I imagine Laxus probably dances to. "God of Thunder" by KISS is another Laxus would probably appreciate. Tell me what songs you like.  
_

* * *

Chapter 8

**Thunderstorm Fading  
**

Freed lost track of time. It was like the electricity that coursed through him, and the touches that prickled his skin, warped time and space, making the night last an eternity, and yet suddenly those hours were coming to an end.

"Hold out. Endure it."

"I can't!"

"You will. Tighten your abdominal muscles. Hold back the need."

"Please, let me come."

"No."

"Please … master."

"Not yet, my slave. We'll wait until sunrise. This is training. Just endure it."

Minutes and hours blended with a glaze of pleasure and fatigue. During one of their many breaks, Freed panted and gazed up at the ceiling, enjoying a respite from the electrical pleasure. Laxus had left his side once more, striding over to the window, and those huge hands threw open the heavy curtains. Freed's eyes squinted. The real world was out there, and he did not want to face that yet. He wanted this fantasy night to last forever.

"Dawn is coming," Laxus said, sounding melancholy. He watched the glow outside getting brighter and brighter.

Freed felt exhausted, aching, and desperate. "Laxus," he moaned. "Please."

"A little longer."

There were only a few more minutes until sunrise. Freed felt like giving up already, but Laxus was right there, holding him again. His hand reached down, stroking, but never enough. Freed craved to end this torture. Suddenly, Laxus yanked all of the electrodes off of Freed's sweaty body and took off the cock ring.

"Wait!" Freed cried out.

"On your feet. Come here."

He forced the weary man to the massive window overlooking the city and pressed him up against the cold pane of glass. It was bright now. Squinting, Freed could see cars below. Morning traffic had begun.

"Maybe they can see you," Laxus whispered into his ear. "Naked, sweaty, a total mess."

Freed shuddered. He was slammed up against the window. They might see! They might know he was up there, a perverted masochist with his strip dancing lover.

Softly, tenderly, Laxus gave a different sort of order. "Watch the sunrise with me, Freed."

Having his name whispered in such a tender way made Freed tremble. He put his hands on the glass to hold himself up as Laxus continued to fondle his balls, giving occasional strokes up the shaft, then back down. Freed tensed, and he felt the plug still in his ass.

"Please," he begged in a shiver.

"Tell me when you see the sun come up."

"It's bright already," Freed groaned. The horizon was burning, but the sun had not yet peaked over.

Laxus nipped along his ear as his hand kept stroking placidly. "As soon as the sun is up, I'll let you come. You're not allowed to before then."

Freed clawed at the glass. Laxus' hand began to stroke him faster. He glanced down and saw his precum streaking the glass in wet smears.

"Oh God," Freed groaned, shuddering with pleasure.

"You're so close," Laxus breathed, and he lapped his tongue around the shell of Freed's ear. "Four hours! You're really amazing."

"Please," Freed huffed in exhaustion. "Please." It was all he could say.

Laxus laid his head on Freed's shoulder so their faces were together as they gazed out the window. Finally, "Sun's up," he noted as the first stream of gold crested the distant horizon. "Ready?"

Although Freed was panting and shaking with fatigue, he looked over to Laxus. "You first."

Laxus raised an eyebrow.

"You've been hard all night." Freed arched his ass back to rub against Laxus' arousal hidden away in those tight leather pants. "I … I want you to come first. I want it on my face. I … I want to jerk myself off while you spray it on my face."

"Shit," Laxus whispered breathlessly, but then his eyes glared hard. "No!"

Freed gasped, shocked at being denied his one earnest request.

"I don't like the idea of you finishing yourself off. It'd be like I couldn't finish my job. I'll do it. Now, lie down."

Freed walked back to the bed and obediently reclined on the pillows. Laxus undid the top button of his leather pants and yanked his zipper down. Freed had seen him do this much for the audience in his finale dance move, teasing by showing only the root of his cock. This time, he pulled out the whole thing, thick and flushed with arousal, finally springing free after being confined for so long. Freed caught his breath. Something that huge would really hurt … and Freed liked the idea of that!

Laxus straddled over Freed's torso. One hand reached back and stroked Freed's erection. The other hand wrapped around that massive cock and gave himself a full stroke. Freed clenched up like Laxus had instructed just to keep from coming at the mere sight of Laxus stroking himself.

"Good boy," Laxus smiled. "But you can come at any time."

"I want t- … to hold off," Freed said between gasps. "I want … s-same time."

"I can't guarantee that. I have no clue when I'll come, and you're damn close."

"I wanna hold back," he insisted. "I'll … I'll try to hold myself back. Just don't stop. Keep touching me. Please! Like this. Both. Together. Like … _nnngh_ … this!"

Laxus hissed at the moaning demands. "I won't bother taking my time, then. I've been hard for a while. I jerked off in the bathroom once already," he admitted. "Seeing you like this, I need to again. Desperately!"

Freed smiled with intense happiness. Then that meant Laxus really had enjoyed this night.

Laxus stroked himself without delicacy, letting his wrist fly to bring himself close as quickly as possible. Watching that, Freed felt something like a surge, but he tightened up, holding back.

"L-Laxus," he cried out.

"Moan for me. Cry out. Scream!" Laxus reached over, plugged a cord back into the butt plug, and turned the e-stim up to the level where he had noticed that Freed enjoyed the most, without it being up so high as to numb him from coming.

Freed arched up, feeling himself burning up and tingling inside, pulsing waves flowing through him, and suddenly everything was rushing forward.

"L-Laxus! Oh … God … oh!"

"Ffffuck!" Laxus groaned. "I wanna hear you, Freed."

His body twisted, part of him wanting to finally come after four hours of teasing, part dreading that coming meant this fantasy would end. That fear was a far bigger incentive not to come at all.

"Do you want my hand more?" Laxus panted, and he grabbed Freed's dripping cock. "You've been leaking so much all night, I wonder if you have anything left in your balls."

Freed tensed at the sweetly dirty talk.

"You're not too numb, are you?"

"Please," he whispered.

"Too quiet. Moan for me."

"L-Laxus!"

"Shit … so close. More! Be louder."

"No! Gonna … I'm gonna…"

"Scream, bitch!" Laxus suddenly slapped Freed on the thigh.

At the painful strike, Freed cried out and felt himself go. That pumping hand gave no mercy at the end, breaking his will and making him come apart completely. Just before Freed had a chance to feel disappointed that he came first, Laxus' face changed, his teeth bared tensely, and Freed heard him chanting.

"Shit, fuck, shit, shit, fuuuuck!"

He watched the first white arc of liquid shoot out with such power, it flew past his face, landing on his forehead and green hair. Then Laxus changed his angle a little, watching and letting the next jolt cover Freed, streaking his cheek and across his mouth. Freed tasted the bitterness drip past his lips.

Laxus grinned tensely as he held his cock over Freed's face, letting more spill out until it covered the swordsman's skin. He smiled down at the mess, milking out everything, slathering it onto the flushed cheeks. He playfully slapped Freed's cheeks with his cock, and the green-haired man moaned to feel that. Then Laxus held his shrinking cock to wipe himself clean on Freed's face. Freed felt that soft skin, the wetness, and he savored the taste dripping into his mouth.

"Not bad," Laxus said in praise as he turned off the electrical stimulator. He climbed off and knelt beside Freed. "You actually held back. I'm honestly impressed." Then he took one finger and drew a pattern in the milky fluid covering Freed's face. "I've … I've never done this with someone who wasn't a client. Hell, I've never let myself come for a client at all, or … or for anyone."

Freed arched an eyebrow. "I'm your first?"

Laxus laughed brusquely but still had a faint blush. "Shit, I guess so. Same with you?"

"Yeah," Freed said faintly. "I … I mean, I've dated, but … not this. Never something like this."

Laxus stroked back the green hair. "Were you ever kissed before tonight?"

Freed blushed and looked aside. "A few times."

"Good. I don't want to feel like I'm stealing everything away from you all at once."

Laxus suddenly leaned over. Freed's eyes widened as he felt rough lips meet his in a domineering kiss. There was no pretext of giving him a drink this time. It was a pure kiss, and it was … messy!

Laxus pulled back and chuckled softly. "You taste like shitty cum."

"It's your cum," Freed shot back. "Not my fault if it's shitty."

Laxus laughed that this man, a raging masochist, was still witty and could talk back. He brought forward the hand he had used to stroke off Freed. "Here, taste this."

He thrust a moist finger into Freed's mouth. Those teary eyes widened, then tensed up, trying to shake his head at the bitterness. Laxus chuckled sadistically, grabbed a handful of hair, and gave it just enough of a yank to show he was serious.

"Clean it up, Greenie."

Freed's gazed up, but he obeyed, sucking on the finger, then licking the other fingers, cleaning up the mess.

"Good job," Laxus praised softly, stroking the hair to ease the pain. "Damn. Why do you have to be a hot, young guy?"

Freed looked up, wondering why he would say something like that. Then he saw the wistfulness in Laxus' face. "Would it be easier if I was a woman?"

"Not really. Same problem, just different plumbing."

"Problem?" he asked worriedly.

"Strippers aren't supposed to get attached."

"That's to clients," Freed pointed out.

Laxus froze in surprise, and then laughed silently to himself. "I guess that's true. You're not a client."

"What am I?"

Laxus took the edge of the bed sheet and wiped up Freed's messy face. "A friend?" he guessed.

"With benefits?" Freed teased.

Laxus chuckled at that cockiness. "Maybe more."

Freed's playfulness turned to shock. "W-wait. More … than friends?"

"_Maybe_," he emphasized sternly, but Laxus began to blush again. "I … wouldn't mind."

"T-to have … _more_?"

Electric blue eyes gazed down at him. "To have you."

Freed caught his breath. "Laxus!" he whispered in awe.

"Do you mind?"

"No!"

"I'm a stripper," Laxus warned. "It's my job. I'm not quitting it. It's the only way I can get new clients, men I can beat up, do things that I wouldn't want to do with you."

"Wouldn't want?"

"Seriously, do you repeat everything I say?" he snapped in irritation.

"What don't you want to do with me?" Freed demanded.

Laxus stroked back the green hair. "Hurt you. Treat you like shit. Beat you up. I don't want that."

Freed's eyes softened. "What _do_ you want?" he asked hopefully.

Laxus smiled, and he showed a little bit of hidden tenderness deep down inside. "Who knows?" he whispered, refusing to give in to that soft side, although his fingers still stroked through Freed's lengthy hair, playing with it, watching the green shifting colors in the light. "Do you feel like showering? I like to shower right afterward. I hate the way cum feels when it dries."

"To be honest, I'm not sure if I can stand on my own yet."

"I'll help to hold you up."

Freed caught his breath. "You mean, shower together?"

"That's what I meant. You can scrub my back." He looked aside gruffly. "Unless you don't wanna."

"I do!" Freed cried out. "That is … if it pleases you, master."

Laxus chuckled and stroked his hair. "Master/slave time is over. I'm just Laxus now."

He may say that, but to Freed, this man would always be part thunder god!

* * *

After a soothing shower, they returned to the bed. Laxus laid down, and at a silent gesture, Freed laid next to him, curling into that large, tattooed body. He looked at the skin marked with scars, and the ink that tried to hide the scars from view. He lightly touched one, but then worried if perhaps the skin was sensitive. Laxus did not move, though. Freed glanced down at the puckered skin and wondered if, instead of sensitive, Laxus had lost some sensation in the areas with all the scars. The idea that it was Laxus' father who did this to his own son saddened Freed, and he kissed one of the scars.

"I can't feel directly on top of them," Laxus said quietly. "Just to the side, it's super sensitive. Not painful, just easy to feel." He glanced down with a small smile. "I can't feel your lips when you do that, but your nose tickles."

"Sorry," he whispered.

"I didn't say to stop. I meant to kiss beside the scar, not on top. That way I can feel it. I like to feel your lips."

Freed smiled coyly, leaned over, and placed his lips beside one of the scars. He felt a ripple through Laxus' muscles and guessed it must have tickled also.

"Do you need to sleep?" asked Laxus.

"It's morning. When do we need to check out?"

"Eleven o'clock. It's already seven. Either we leave now, or we sleep for a few hours."

Freed curled closer into the large body. "I don't want to leave yet."

A large hand stroked his head. "Yeah, me neither. I'll set the alarm for ten."

Laxus messed with the hotel's clock alarm, then rolled back into the bed and wrapped his body around Freed's.

"If I snore, hit my nose," Laxus muttered. In under a minute, his body slumped, and his breathing went heavy.

Freed felt those breaths on the back of his neck. A few light snores came out, but they made him smile. It seemed the thunder god had a cute side.

* * *

Freed was unsure when he fell asleep, but he jolted out of a dream when the alarm clock clicked on. Laxus' arms clutched tightly around him. He tried to move away, hoping to turn off the alarm, but Laxus squeezed tighter.

"Don't go yet," he mumbled.

Freed glanced around, but it looked like Laxus was still asleep.

"Stay here. Don't go," he muttered.

Was he talking in his sleep? It was rather cute.

However, less than a minute later, Laxus woke and blinked out his sleepy eyes. He saw Freed gazing at him, and he jolted back.

"What the … oh. Last night. Right."

"Good morning," Freed smiled.

"Heh! I've never slept with someone, not since I was a child sleeping with my mother. Did I snore?"

"Not really. We, um … we should turn off that alarm."

Laxus rolled over and hit the alarm clock with a fist. Then he stayed on his back staring at the ceiling.

"Are you feeling all right?" he finally asked Freed.

Freed sat up and stretched out his arms. "Seems so." He began to stand, but his legs almost gave out. "Ooooor maybe not."

"Thighs?"

"Yeah. They burn."

"That's to be expected. Hey, you slept naked."

"So did you," Freed pointed out.

"I'm used to it. Weren't you cold?"

Freed blushed. "No." He had actually felt a little too warm with Laxus wrapped around him.

"Look, about your clothes, I'll need to return the jeans to work. They're costume clothes. I … um … I got you this to wear." Laxus got out of bed and walked over to the bag he had bought the night before.

Freed watched with a prurient smile at the way the morning sunlight slanted through the window and lit up Laxus' naked body, from muscular shoulders, firm buttocks that had dimples on the cheeks, a cock hanging soft but still impressive even flaccid, and those thighs that looked like they could crush something. That body had been right up against him all night. He almost wished he had not slept for a single minute so he could have felt Laxus holding him these past three hours.

"I know it's not your thing, but it's all they had at the sex shop." He pulled out a pair of leather pants and a male thong. Freed covered his mouth and laughed. "Hey! I said it was all they had," Laxus snapped.

"It's fine, just … leather pants … like yours." He grinned with excitement, feeling warm to have an article of clothing picked out by the man he liked.

"Well, when I gave them to you last night, I had thought maybe you could just drop them off on your next visit, but you said you weren't returning to the South Pole Club, so I realized I needed to get you something else to wear. It was my fault for not paying attention to you during that lap dance. We didn't have time to have the maids do your laundry, so you need to wear something to drive home."

"Home," Freed said softly. He had to leave this world of fantasy and return to his dorm room, to university and fencing matches, his roommate, his annoying siblings, the family who only barely tolerated the fact that their eldest son was gay, back to _real life_! It was a depressing thought.

Laxus saw the look on his face. He pulled Freed over in bed and wrapped him up into a warm embrace. "It'll be okay. We can have more nights like this, if you want."

"Promise?" Freed asked uncertainly.

Laxus liked the silkiness of this man's green hair on his cheek. "Promise. Get your phone."

Freed got his cellphone, and Laxus got his number.

"Can't I have yours?" Freed asked.

"I warned you, I'm really careful about letting other people know stuff about me. Something like my cellphone, you don't get info like that until the third date."

Freed's eyes sparkled. _Date?_

"I have your number. I'll give you a call. It won't be right away, though. Don't be some idiot pining away waiting for the phone to ring. I have work, ya know. And you have school. When is your next fencing tournament?"

Freed felt his heart race with excitement. Could they make that into another date? Dating? Dating _Laxus_? Were they dating now? "I-it's a week before Halloween. But … that isn't for a month!"

"That's plenty of time for you to recover from this. But no one else touches you, got it?"

"N-No! Of course not!"

"You can look, but don't touch."

"I only look at you," he swore. "Even at the club, you were the only one I really watched. No one else compared."

Laxus chuckled and ruffled up his hair. "Then a week before Halloween, I'll give you a call. I wanna see you fight."

"It's a competition, not a fight."

"If you win your tournament, I'll use the e-stim plug again. Now are ya gonna fight to win?"

"Hell yes!" Freed moaned, already wanting that pulsing pleasuring inside of him.

"Good boy. Get into the shower, let the hot water hit your muscles. It'll help."

Freed left to the restroom. The hot water really did feel good on his aching muscles, and he began to understand why Laxus said a month would be enough recovery time. He was going to _hurt_ for the next few days! However, his depression was gone. Already, he looked forward to training extra hard on his swordsmanship so he could show Laxus his strength.

When he stepped out toweling his hair, the hotel was quiet. He looked around, but there was no sign of Laxus. He wondered if maybe he left to get more ice, but the black bag was missing, too. Freed felt his heart racing. He was gone! Like the briefness of a passing thunderstorm, this man had struck him, ravaged him, and rolled on.

"Laxus!" he cried out, just in case he was hiding. Then he saw a note written on hotel parchment and placed on the rumpled blankets.

* * *

_Greenie … Freed,_

_I'm still a man who likes his privacy. There are depths to me I don't like to show to anyone, but especially not to someone I care for. Dammit, but somehow you made a man like me give a shit for a little whelp like you. So, it's best if we leave things like this. I can find my way home by bus._

_I left the butt plug and cock ring for you. Those are yours. Don't you dare use them unless I'm with you, got it? It's part of your "supplies" now, so when I see you again, you better bring them with you or I'll be really upset. I don't buy gifts for my own family on Hanukkah, let alone someone I don't even know. You better take care of them!_

_If you ever really need to see me, no matter what's the issue, you know where to find me: at the South Pole. Otherwise, await my phone call, but don't you dare act like some damn princess, sighing and moping and shit. You're in university, so study your ass off and work hard on swordfighting. Or competition. Whatever you call it. I don't even know what the hell I'm writing anymore, so…_

_Bye._

– _Your thunder god_

* * *

"My thunder god," Freed whispered, seeing how he had addressed it.

He walked over to the window. The sun was bright in the sky. It looked like any other day, and tomorrow Freed had to go back to classes and studying. Maybe not much had changed, but Freed felt like his life was just dawning, like the morning star rising in the east.

Then a sight caught his eye. In front of the hotel was a bus stop. A city bus had just pulled over to pick up a passenger, and Freed saw a broad built man with blond hair. As the person began to walk up the bus steps, he paused and glanced back. Freed saw Laxus gazing up at him. He placed his hand up against the window pane, wondering if Laxus could even see him way up here. Maybe it was only his imagination when Laxus' clear blue eyes met his, and he nodded faintly, as if telling Freed he would be all right on his own now.

And then he was gone. The bus pulled away. The thunderstorm had rolled over the horizon, leaving Freed refreshed, renewed, and filled with revitalization.

**Next Chapter: "Always Greener on the Other Side"**


	9. Always Greener on the Other Side

Chapter 9

**Always Greener on the Other Side**

Laxus had a leather flogger in his hand. In front of him, stretched out with hands and neck bound in stocks, was some fat piece of flesh. He didn't know the name, and he didn't care. The man was familiar, likely some politician or maybe even an actor. Laxus had no clue, only that he had seen this man's face on TV. Now he was just another client, some sick fuck who wanted the God of Thunder to crash apart his world.

Music blared through the room. Rather than the dance tunes at the club, when Laxus worked a client his music was darker, ominous, meant to make the person's heart race and instill fear. Fear of him! Obedience! Right then, Metallica's _Ride the Lightning_ was blaring, guitars shredding.

Flash before my eyes.  
Now it's time to die.  
Burning in my brain.  
I can feel the flames.

Normally, this put Laxus in the mood to dole out pain, remembering the past, the pain, the terror, all trust sliced into pieces as his own father hurt him, cut into him with surgical precision, did things to him, experiments that were excruciating, things young Laxus did not understand. Maybe his father's experiments worked. He had been a feeble child, almost died many times from fevers and easily getting injured. His mother had constantly fretted over his health. Now, he never got sick, he was large, muscular, taller than almost everyone else he knew. People around him whispered about steroids. Likely, that was part of it. Maybe more. Laxus had no clue.

Sometimes, he wished it had not worked. If he was still weak and sick all the time, maybe he would have stayed indoors, studied more, focused on school and friends, instead of being an outcast, everyone terrified of him, roaming the streets just to escape his family life, so consumed by anger that things like an education were secondary to his lust for revenge.

He slapped the flogger over the flesh. Lumpy fat jiggled, and the skin darkened with serpentine red marks.

"Sickening!" he muttered.

Just seeing this man was disgusting. No wonder he never got aroused before. He used to think that just the act of hurting someone should be enough to arouse him, so he thought maybe he was asexual, since none of his clients, nor the women he had dated, stirred him. Nobody aroused him!

Now, he had come to know an athletic body, thin and taut muscles, firm flesh toned with youth and hard work, not saggy and wrinkled like this man. There had never been pleasure in his job before, but now Laxus was intensely revolted.

"Master!" the man groaned.

"You're repulsive," he sneered.

"Yes! Yes, I am, master."

"Shut up!" Laxus cracked the flogger over the flesh. The man groaned in masochistic pleasure, and the sound turned Laxus' stomach.

When Freed had called him master, that desperate whimper had shocked Laxus. Freed said the title as if nobody else in his life would ever be _master_, only Laxus. Only him! He liked that. He liked knowing there was a man who wanted that sort of exclusiveness.

This fat bastard had probably had dozens of doms before hiring Laxus. He certainly had a wide variety of devices, his own sado-maso playroom in his mansion's basement, designed to look like a dungeon, so he was experienced in this sort of perverted play.

"The butt plug, master. You promised. Twenty lashes and I can have it."

Gross. Laxus wanted to vomit. This man's flabby ass stuck out, stripped red from the lashes he had been getting all night. Laxus had made the requirement of twenty lashes because he sincerely hoped the man would not make it that far. Either his arm was swinging too gently, or this man's pain tolerance was incredible.

Laxus set the flogger aside and pulled on latex gloves.

He remembered Freed had asked about using gloves. They were because Laxus never knew if these men has diseases. Of course, they all claimed they were perfectly loyal husbands, and they only needed this pain-play once in a while, a breather from the mundane world, the stress of constantly striving for perfection in their aristocratic empyrean. Under the Thunder God's dominance, they could be reduced to a mere mortal, gross flesh, carnal cravings, and escape from all that pressure. Still, Laxus never knew how many whores these men might have on the side. At least three of his former clients had been reported in the news for scandals with prostitutes, interns, or secretaries.

If only the news knew about the male strip dancer those same men had hired to whip and paddle their asses into submission. More than once, Laxus chuckled about how he could write a tell-all story one day and humiliate a third of the politicians in his jurisdiction.

"Master, you're quiet tonight. Are you okay?"

"Shut up," Laxus grumbled.

"You're not insulting me as much, master."

Laxus had the gloves on, but he suddenly grabbed the old man by his graying hair, yanking his head up harshly. "Are you _ordering_ me, bitch?"

"N-no, master."

"Good. Then do me a favor and _never_ call me master again. You are a disgusting, fat, motherfucking sonuvabitch and unworthy of having me as your master."

The man moaned pleasurably at the insult. "Uh, then what should I call you?"

Laxus wondered about that. He only wanted Freed to call him master, and he knew that Freed was the only one he wanted as a slave. These sick fucks were too disgusting to be his slaves. They were pigs, mere fodder, pieces of meat he could hit. However, today he could not keep his mind on the act of taking revenge on his father. His mind kept slipping to green hair.

"Call me son."

The man raised his head and looked back in confusion. "Son?"

"No, never mind." Although that would definitely remind him of his father, if this bastard started to beg for more, then calling him _son_ would be awkward as hell. "Call me Lexus."

"Oh! Like the car? Is that your name?"

"No, idiot," he said coldly.

Laxus grabbed up a butt plug and a bottle of lube. Disgusting cow! He wanted this to be over with already. He wanted to go home, put the whole day out of his mind, and think about that lithe body squirming over twisted sheets. Now, every time he watched porn, Laxus pictured long, green hair sprawled across the bed. Almost every night, Freed haunted him with the memories of him begging weakly and arching up in pleasure.

Laxus looked down. The sweet memories were stirring his pants, but seeing this client, this rich pervert who had to pay money to get this sort of treatment, killed his boner in an instant.

He sneered, "You really are pathetic."

"Yes!" the man groaned.

"Disgusting! Putrid pile of flesh! You couldn't get a nymphomaniac to suck you off."

"Nnnngh! Mas-…"

"Don't fucking call me that! You're not worthy of calling me that. Who would want you as a slave?" Laxus slicked up the plug and rammed it in without any attempt at being gentle.

"Ahhhhh! Mas-… Lexus!"

The name was too close. Shit.

"The vibrator, please, Lexus."

"You are ordering me way the hell too much! Disgusting, greedy fucker!"

Laxus reached to a table with an array of sex toys and picked up a heavy paddle with the word BITCH imprinted on it. He weighed it in his hand, took aim, and slapped it hard over the man's ass. BITCH was left behind amidst bright pink skin.

"You're way below me." _Slap!_ "You're just some needy, pitiful slug." _Smack, smack!_

"Oh God, yes!"

"Fuck your vibrator! I will beat the shit out of you. That shitty cum of yours. Just shit! Disgusting pimple! Pop your white shit out. Sick fucker!"

Laxus was honestly furious. This was not about his father anymore, though. As he paddled the man over and over, he realized he was angry at himself, at this lifestyle, at the sort of man he had grown to become.

Still, he needed this. He needed to hurt these men. It was like needing food or oxygen. As repulsed as he was by them, they were the only ones he could hurt, because he really did not want to hurt Freed like this. He wanted to give him the sort of pain that tingled all through him. He wanted to hear those desperate moans and watch his face as he struggled to hold back from coming. He wanted that man so much, it drove him crazy.

It scared Laxus, and so he held back on giving Freed a call. Just one phone call and he could have that man!

But if he met Freed while feeling this way, he would want more than just doling out pain and watching the effects. He had loved touching Freed, and then at the end, touching himself, both of them together, taking pleasure in feeling that body writhing between his thighs … something amazing had sparked between them, something sensual, a shared euphoria.

He wanted more!

And part of him feared that desire.

He was still swinging the paddle over and over when he realized the client had cum dripping on the floor. Laxus did not feel any sort of fulfillment. He did his job. He would get a ridiculous amount of money, funds he was saving up so he could search for his father. One day, he might need to pay off police or find one hell of a lawyer when he finally tortured and murdered that bastard.

He had no clue what he would do after that. He wouldn't need these men. He wouldn't need to imagine torturing his father. His quest for revenge would be over. Would he still even be a sadist? Probably, but he doubted the anger issues would still be around.

Maybe he and Freed could settle down somewhere, live a normal life. The guy was apparently wealthy. Laxus could live in luxury. He would not have to work at the strip club anymore. He could read more, listen to music, maybe attend opera concerts with Freed. It was a nice thought.

_'What the hell am I even thinking about?'_

These sorts of daydreams scared him. He had never known a _normal_ life. How could he possibly expect to fit in with polite society?

Freed was way above him, a fortunate eldest son born into plutocratic privilege. That was why Laxus liked to bring him down, make this green-haired angel just another mortal. Although he pompously claimed the title of thunder god, Laxus knew how simple and miserable his life really was. He wanted Freed to be at his level, to break those wings and bring him down, make him suffer the pain of mortals, if just for a little while, just enough so Laxus could finally touch this emerald angel.

He focused back on the client. He set the paddle down, pulled the plug out, and put it in a dish to be sterilized later. He never dealt with cleanup. When he unlocked the stocks, the man collapsed to the floor, wincing in pain and panting in sexual exhaustion.

"Money," Laxus demanded curtly.

"The butler will have it, as usual, plus a little extra for your silence."

Laxus never asked for hush money, but most of his highest profile clients, particularly politicians, added that in.

The man wiped sweat off his forehead. He was dripping all over his obese body. "Can you help me up, Lexus?" He reached a hand out.

The blond pulled away. Touch that sweat-drenched hand? Sick! "I don't help you. You are an ant before a god, and I don't give a shit about what happens to an insect like you. I'm only here to make you understand: all of your money doesn't change what you are."

"I know," the man groaned, smiling to hear the insults. "Tell me what I am. Tell me!"

"You're a fucking sick bastard who _still _thinks he can order me around." Laxus put his boot lightly on top of the man's penis. "I could crush you easily, like a cockroach, and not even all the money in the world could buy back what I could steal from you."

The slight pain, humiliation, and degradation made the man shudder erotically. Laxus bet this idiot had no clue that what he really meant was that, with one well-placed call, he could end this man's perfect outward appearance, shatter his happy family life, ruin his reputation, and socially end him.

Laxus turned and strode out of the room, ripping off the latex gloves and throwing them over his shoulders. He knew already, he would never agree to see this man again, not since he knew a name that was too damn close to Laxus' real name. He was rich, he obviously had years of collecting BDSM gear, he would find another dom in no time and hopefully forget all about _Lexus._

At least it was not _master_ anymore. Laxus never wanted these filthy pigs to call him master again.

Right now, he just wanted to go home, put on some porn, lean back in bed, and stroke off to thoughts of creamy limbs bound with his belt and verdant hair sprawled across the pillows.

* * *

Freed was sitting in his dorm room trying to study a business model, comparing the class project instructions to what he had written up, and cross-referencing that with three textbooks and something he found online. Flute music played over his iTunes. He now had a large collection of classical flute music pirated off websites. If he ever got to go driving with Laxus again, he wanted a whole soundtrack to ease the man's motion sickness.

He paused. Just thinking about Laxus made him want to reach down and stroke himself, but he really did not feel like dealing with that, not when his roommate could come home at any time. Not for the first time, Freed wondered if he should look into off-campus housing before his graduation. He could easily afford an apartment, and he had a car to drive to school. Living in a dorm with a roommate was supposed to be part of the whole "college experience." Instead, it was annoying and distracting, especially when he wanted to quickly jerk off so he could focus back on school work.

He sighed, shoving Laxus out of his head. The man had not called or texted him, and he wondered if maybe he would never hear back. Was he just another person in the prolific escapades of the strip dancer? Was it all just some incredibly elaborate dream? No … he had the butt plug, cock ring, leather pants, and male thong to prove that their night together really happened. Those were hidden away so his roommate would not see them.

Freed focused back on his homework. He wrote in a few notes to adjust the statistics, when suddenly his door was kicked open, followed by laughter.

A man with orange hair swaggered in, obviously drunk, with two ladies on either arm. They were young and incredibly gorgeous, but the sight of them made Freed immediately on guard. He felt this had to be some sort of karma, feeling wary of women yet winding up as the roommate of the campus's biggest playboy, Loke.

"Freed, dude, whatcha doin', roomie?" Loke asked. The two ladies had their hands all over him. One was already trying to unthread his belt, eager for the fun to start.

"I live here," Freed said blandly.

"It's Saturday. I thought you hit up one of your twink clubs on Saturdays."

Freed flinched. Loke was usually really cool about Freed's homosexuality. "_More chicks for me_" was what he said laughingly when they were first put together as dorm-mates. However, Freed could smell the booze from his desk. Loke was drunk, and he often did not realize what he said when intoxicated.

"Gay, huh?" one of the ladies purred, eying Freed, making him feel even more on edge. "Care for a foursome? I wouldn't mind watching two hot guys going at it together."

Freed coldly stared at her. "Are you serious?" he said bitterly.

"Whoa, easy there, kitten," Loke laughed to the buxomly blonde. "Freed is one hundred percent all boys club, no girls allowed."

"Do you two ever…?" she began to ask.

Freed slammed his folder shut, turned off the music, and tapped a few keys to screen-lock his computer so no one would tamper with it. "You have until two AM when the bars close, Loke. Either they're gone, or all three of you are asleep." As he began to walk past, he leaned over to his roommate. "And just so we're clear after last time, I do _not_ make breakfast for your girls."

"I know, dude, I get it. You're a pal. Go out, have fun, live while you're young or you're gonna end up as some old geezer paying dudes to blow you."

The girls laughed at that, but Freed stormed out. For some reason, that comment made him remember Laxus. Was he out there somewhere with one of his _clients_?

He kept trying to assure himself, Loke meant well, and he did not know about Laxus yet. Freed had no clue how to even begin explaining how he had hooked up with a stripper, and he was not even sure if he and Laxus were really _together._ Freed knew that Loke meant nothing by the comment. He just made a really bad drunk, and when it came to ladies, the man was an animal.

Just after he shut the door, Freed heard Loke say, "Nope, sorry kitten, but that's Freed's bed. Don't touch his stuff. He's a good friend."

Hearing Loke respect his privacy made Freed smile, reassuring him that, indeed, Loke was a fairly decent roommate…

"The fun is over on this bed. So, which one wants eaten and which one wants to ride the lion?"

… An insatiable male pig, but a decent roommate.

Freed yanked his coat on. It was drizzling outside, so he took one of the umbrellas the dorm provided. It was dark at 8PM now, and he was not really sure where he could go this late at night. All around Magnolia University, weekend parties were going on. There was some sort of sports game out by the stadium. Was it football season? Freed had little interest in sports besides fencing. He thought about heading to the 24-hour gym and getting in some workout time, but eventually he began to wander a route he knew well.

* * *

Laxus was late to work yet again. It wasn't like he had to put on any special clothes or have makeup done before his dance like some of the people in the club. Still, when he entered the backstage of the South Pole Club, he already heard Talking Heads' _Popsicle_ playing, which meant Gray had begun his show.

"Dreyar!" a voice boomed. Only one man called Laxus that. He slowly turned and glared at Jellal. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Not time for my dancing," Laxus said softly.

"Your shift began an hour ago."

"I don't need to primp myself like some of these whores," Laxus said, not caring if other dancers heard him and took offense. Most were already too drunk or high to care anyway. "I don't start making you money until the light on that stage turns yellow."

"You don't make me money _period_," Jellal shouted. "That's the problem. I gave you a second chance when I saw that green-haired mouse. He was a regular with lots of cash, but he hasn't been back since that day. Did you scare him off? You didn't _hurt_ him, did you?"

"No!" Laxus shouted, angry he would even accuse him of that.

"I don't want another one of your _clients_ calling up here because you left him beaten half to death."

"I didn't do that to him," Laxus insisted furiously.

"You drove away a regular. You're not making this club money. Do you know what you're doing? Wasting my goddamn time! Using my reputable stage to prostitute yourself in the hopes that you'll get another filthy rich masochist. Do you really want me to threaten to blackmail one of your mewling submissives for money just to pay for the goddamn medical insurance I have to buy for you?"

"Threaten the wrong one, and you'll end up with this club repossessed and your license to sell alcohol revoked permanently." Laxus leaned into Jellal. "I can do that with just one snap of my belt. You don't threaten _my_ clients, got it? Some of those bastards are more powerful than you can imagine."

"The fact remains," Jellal said coldly, "you're not making the club money. You're a waste of show time. There are lots of pretty little boys out there happy to take up an offer to dance at this club, pleasure a few men, and get paid to do what's enjoyable to them. I know for a fact, you take no pleasure in men. Or women, for that matter." Jellal leaned in close and threatened, "I could replace you like _that_," and he snapped his fingers.

"Only with the street whores you bribe with weed, or people who your bastard twin brother manages to get out of a prison term and have them work here as fucking indentured servants. I know that's how you snagged your claws into Gray. Lyon, too. You bribe them or blackmail them. Not many come here willingly. I did!" he said, thumbing his chest. "You ain't got shit on me."

"I can still fire you. Work your ass on that stage, and I want you circling the floor. I'll even make an announcement: they can take you for a free spin tonight, but all tips are mine today."

"What?" Laxus roared. "You bastard…"

"Then hope someone buys a lap dance. Manage to get that, and you can keep the tips. Until that happens, you work the floor for free. See if that tames you some, and if they see you aren't as scary as you try to seem, maybe they'll buy more dances with you in the future."

"Fuck you!"

"Watch it," Jellal warned sternly. "Just because you came to this club on your own terms, just because you're not gay, just because you don't actually have sex with your clients, realize this, Laxus Dreyar: you are just as much a whore as the kids in this club who started off blowing old men in back alleys for a twenty. Right now, you're _my_ whore. Now get out there, dance like Bob will give you a blow job if you don't perform like fucking Fred Astaire, and then get your ass onto the floor. Now, I have an announcement to make before your song starts. I get to tell those gentlemen that the Thunder God is free to play."

Laxus had half a mind to walk right back out of that club and go home. However, nothing waited for him there. He hardly had anything to convince him to keep waking up in the morning. Especially since Freed had not been back to the South Pole Club, coming to work was no longer enjoyable.

He had noticed long before that fateful night that there were a set of eyes on him in the audience. He thought of the man as simply "Greenie." Hardly realizing it, he had begun to dance for Greenie. He danced knowing that someone was enjoying it. He aimed most of his pelvic thrusts in the direction of those eyes in the dark that gawked with arousal. He did not even notice this until those eyes were gone, the dark was empty, and no one cared if he gyrated in time to the music or not.

He heard Jellal make his announcement. Fucker! Knowing it was free, he would probably have to keep giving lap dances all night long. He hated that part of the work. He did not mind the dancing, but getting right up close to people … he wanted to beat the crap out of most of those men, and it was hard to hold back.

Gray came backstage, shirt missing, only boxers on, using a towel to wipe away the sweat from his hard performance. He went straight over to Laxus.

"Did you piss in Jellal's bourbon? He's never been this livid just because you show up two minutes before showtime, so long as you're on the stage when the music starts."

Laxus glared at the bright stage and the darkness beyond. "Why do you work here, Gray?"

"Eh?" He paused his wiping as he thought about that question. "I like it here. I like to dance, the money is good, and Pinkie isn't so bad. He's here again tonight."

"Do you love him?"

Gray's eyes widened. "What? Nats- … I mean, Pinkie?"

"Does he know your name?"

"W-why would you ask that? You know Jellal's rules." He realized he was sounding desperate.

"Gray, you're here because you broke some rules, Siegrain got you out of jail on a technicality, and he told you to work off your lawyer fees by dancing here. You've paid Siegrain back, yet you're still here. You're a damn good dancer. You could dance professionally. And that pink brat, he seems devoted. You two could make a life together."

Gray looked aside just as Lyon passed by down the corridor. "It's more complicated than that," he muttered, watching the white-haired fellow stripper.

"He seems like a good guy. You've had him as a client five times this month alone. Do you ever do it for free?"

"F-free?" Gray echoed fearfully.

"Do you ever feel attachment? Fondness? Love?"

"Laxus, what the hell?" Gray shouted, fisting up his hands to keep from shaking. These were taboo things to ask. The club's rules for strippers were absolute, and Jellal had fired people for forming a relationship with a person and becoming exclusive.

Laxus looked down with uncertainty in his face. "If Pinkie stopped coming, would you quit?"

Gray's mouth dropped in shock. "Wait, is this about that greenie kid? You and him … are you two…?"

Before he could ask, and before Laxus could decide what to tell him, the stage went dark. Jellal walked down some stairs and into the wings. He glared at the two dancers.

"Ice Prince, your dragon is waiting. Thor, I want _sparks_ to ignite that stage! Fucking Mjolnir sparks, got it?"

"Whatever," Laxus grumbled.

"Oh, and Bob caught me just before I went on stage. Apparently, whatever god a _thunder god_ prays to, it worked. You have a client request. You're still working the floor for free, but go to that client first. He ordered a VIP room, too."

"How long?" Laxus asked laconically. If it was a VIP room, it was likely one of his old geezers who he beat up sadistically. Right now, he could really use the stress relief.

"Believe it or not, a whole hour. You're still working the rest of the time on the floor, got it?"

"Whatever," he muttered again, and he walked out.

The lights were off, the club was pitch black, but Laxus knew this club well. He did not need lights to know where center stage was, where the pole was, and where was the edge of the stage. He took his usual stance and readied his mind. It was time to be the thunder god.

The flashing strobe light and roll of thunder over the speakers helped to set his mood. When the music started and the lights blinded everyone in a sudden flash of yellow, Laxus had his eyes already gazing out fiercely. He could not see anything at all in the seconds following the flash of all the stage lights. That was fine. There was nothing to look at in the crowd anyway.

As he began the first set of dance moves and his eyes slowly adjusted, he thought he saw a piercing gaze in the crowd. He tried to look out. Sure, there were many people vying for him, especially since it had just been announced that he would be free later on. He saw nothing in particular, but he distinctly felt a solid stare from somewhere in the darkness.

He was in the middle of the chorus when those eyes caught his attention again. It was his imagination, right? He almost forgot to dance, but now his attention was to a side booth … the same booth as always. The stage lights flashed to another cymbal crash in the song synced with a thrust of his pelvis, and in the light he saw the gleam of green hair.

He was here!

Despite himself, Laxus smiled in the middle of the song. His eyes would not leave Freed's. He danced for Freed. He spoke to him through his body. He showed off, hoping Freed would like what he saw. All of his mediocre dancing was gone. He had a _real_ audience now, someone who gazed at all of him, not just the bulging muscles and thick lump in the leather pants. He had a reason to look sexy now.

As the finale came up and Laxus began to unzip his pants, sliding that zipper lower and lower, he turned his body away from center stage. Maybe people on the other side of the room got a worse view, but Laxus didn't give a shit about them! He was showing that hidden treasure to just one man in that room, because only one man in the whole world had made him feel a stirring down there.

He added one little maneuver to his dance. He stroked sensually down the root that the leather pants just barely kept tucked away, and he nodded with a wag of the eyebrow to Freed.

_'This is yours. Yours alone. You want it? Here it is. Beg for it!'_

Then the lights went off, and Laxus rushed off the stage. He zipped his pants back up while backstage and yanked his shirt on in a rush.

As he began to walk by, another dancer, Lyon, was coming forward for his show. "Hey, Laxus, I saw you talking to Gray earlier and—"

"Be jealous another day," Laxus said dismissively.

He rushed into the audience. Plenty of hands reached out to him. Some flat out propositioned him.

"I've got someone first. Keep hot and ready for me," he said to these men, wishing he could beat the shit out of every one of them.

He walked up to Freed. The man smiled enigmatically, and it made Laxus uncomfortable.

"Ya wanted a VIP room, right?" he asked gruffly.

"Yes. I'm not sure where they are," Freed answered, sipping his martini, looking perfectly calm on the outside, but Laxus noticed the way a vein that ran up his pale, slender neck throbbed rapidly.

"Follow me." Laxus turned and walked away, struggling his hardest not to break out into a massive grin.

**Next Chapter: "VIP Room"**

* * *

_A/N: Songs mentioned in this story include "Popsicle" by Talking Heads and "Ride the Lightning" by Metallica. I do not own either songs, obviously._


	10. VIP Room

Chapter 10

**VIP Room**

Once they were out of the main club room, Laxus could hear Freed's light footsteps. "I said I'd call you," he spoke quietly.

"You also said I could come here if I really needed you."

Laxus looked back in dread. "Did something happen? Are you all right?"

He pouted. "I want to be in the room first."

Laxus increased his speed, and soon they entered one of the side rooms where customers with plenty of money could have their own private show, generally with as much touching and contact as they wanted.

Freed entered a darkened room lit in low red lights. It had a couch stretching across the entirety of one wall, a mirror against the other wall so the person could watch the stripper from all angles through the mirror, and a round table in the center with a brass pole for dancing.

"Are there cameras in here?" Freed asked, looking around at the place.

"Yes. It's for safety reasons. No audio, only video, but we might be watched."

"I see," Freed muttered, and he took a seat on a couch. "How much can I do to you?"

"Touch, fondle…"

Freed's eyes gazed up swiftly. "Suck you?"

Laxus gulped hard.

"I wanted to last time." Freed's eyes turned coy. "Would that please you, master?"

The way he phrased it made Laxus smile. Suddenly, inside this room, he was a god again. Jellal, club finances, all that bullshit did not exist in this room. "To tell you the truth, I ain't never had someone suck me before."

"O-oh," Freed muttered, casting his eyes down in disappointment.

"But it's allowed. Pretty much anything but penetration is allowed in here. But what's wrong with you? Why'd you come here?"

"Later," Freed said. "If it pleases you, I want you now, master."

He loved that voice calling him master again. Laxus walked up and patted him on the head. "My good little slave can touch all he wants. I won't restrain you … _this_ time. Take a seat."

Laxus started up some music while Freed sat on the sprawling leather couch, long enough to hold half a dozen people. Something pounding and erotic suddenly pulsed through the sound system. Laxus stepped up onto the round table, his back to the brass pole, and began to dance while the green-haired man watched with rapt interest.

"You're already hard. Touch yourself," Laxus ordered.

Freed blushed, but he reached down. Bashfully, he stroked the length through his pants.

"Damn," Laxus smiled, watching his adorable slave overwhelmed with lust, all attention, all thoughts, all desires, focused solely on him.

Freed stroked slowly, not wanting to rush this just yet. Then he suddenly scooted to the edge of the couch. He reached out and held Laxus' undulating hips. Seeing the silent desire, Laxus stepped off the table and let those needy hands bring him closer, closer, right up to the couch. Laxus straddled over Freed's lap and kept dancing, thrusting up against him in time to the music.

"Oh God," Freed shuddered as the leather stroked over his cotton slacks. "La- … uh … Thor?"

"Best to call me Thor here, Greenie."

"I put a condom on while I was waiting for you after the dance."

Laxus' dancing froze. "Are you saying…?"

"I don't want to hold back this time. I … I wanna be … humiliated. I wanna … c-cum in my clothes. From you. I wanna cum because of you dancing on my lap."

Laxus chuckled slyly. "My little masochistic," he said with adoration, and he stroked down Freed's hair. "Do you wanna cum in your clothes or suck me off first?"

"Could … I … uh," he muttered. "That is … can you still dance for me even if I suck you off first?"

"Dunno. Afterward, I'm usually too sensitive for anything to touch me down there."

"Then … dance first?" He looked aside uncertainly. "I bought an hour, right?"

"That must have cost you. Most people buy per song, not in block time."

"I figured you might be having issues at work again. Bob mentioned you've gotten into trouble. Seems I came at a good time. Is Jellal really having you give _free_ lap dances?" Freed asked indignantly.

"Just today. I sorta bitched on him."

"Well, I don't like it. How do I extend my time with you?"

Laxus' eyes widened. "What? Freed!"

"Greenie, right?" he smirked playfully.

"You already paid for an hour. Do you realize how much that costs?"

"It's on my credit card; obviously I'm aware of the amount. Don't worry, I have the money."

"I work a four-hour shift."

"Then I'll buy another three hours."

"No!" Laxus stood up and walked away. "Why are you doing that? If you're fucking _jealous_, I told you, I'm a stripper. This is my work. I ain't changing that. If Jellal fires me, I'll go to another strip club. It's not like this city is lacking in them. If not there, then another, and another, any place where I can get what I need."

"Someone to beat up, right?" Freed asked with a level gaze.

"I told you, I'm _not_ going to do that to you," Laxus shouted. "I won't … I don't want … shit!" he sneered, turning away sharply.

"You don't want to hurt me beyond what I can bear, and what I can handle isn't at the level of what you need. I get it," Freed said calmly. "That's not the issue. I'm not jealous at all. I'm angry." When he saw Laxus' jaw drop, Freed clarified, "Not with you. With Jellal. Your draw is in your aloofness. He's profaning that image by passing you around like a free whore at a frat party. He's lowering the standard we masochists have, the expectations we alone keep. If we see you being a slut to anyone … that's not what we want to imagine!" he shouted furiously.

Laxus stared in amazement. "You're worried about … about my image? As a strip dancer?"

"As this club's one and only true sadist," he said firmly. "When Jellal said that you would be free … sure, I bet there are plenty of people horny enough to want you tonight, but they won't want you on any normal night. If they did, they would have bought a dance with you already. But me and the others who sit in our booths shivering because we want someone like you to dominate us … I glanced around. I know the regulars in this club. All of the people like me who admire your image as Thor were all really upset to hear Jellal announce that. We don't want to see you passed around. We don't want you to be just another dancer. You're our _thunder god_. You stand above the others who would do anything for money."

"I _do_ do anything for money," Laxus said bitterly.

"You don't give blow jobs, or have sex with people. You said you … you're still a … a vir-…"

"Hey!"

"I saw the looks in their eyes. If not me, then one of the others will buy up your time, anything so we don't have to see our thunder god humiliated. We're that sort of crowd," Freed said, dropping his head and looking bashful. "I've chatted to a few others. I know they would feel the same as me. They wouldn't want to see this. Not at all!"

Laxus placed a large hand on Freed's shoulder. "I get it," he said gently. "Still, you don't have to do this alone. If one of them wants to protect that image you speak of, they'll do something about it. If they don't care, then that's fine, too. I'll know if I really do have that impact with more than just you. Maybe if I know there are others in the crowd, I can keep dancing when you're not here."

Freed pouted and looked away. "I'm sorry I didn't come back."

"You said you wouldn't. I expected it. So why did you return? Something happen?"

"I got booted out of my dorm."

"Trouble?"

"Horny roommate, two girls at the same time, I didn't want to stick around to make it a foursome."

"Good!"

Freed smiled at hearing that slightly jealous growl again. "Also … um…" Freed reached into his pocket and yanked out a slightly crumpled envelope.

"Court summons?"

"What? N-No! Opera tickets."

"Opera?" Laxus asked, peeking inside the envelop. Sure enough, there were two tickets for the Magnolia Opera House.

"I told you about my friend who sings opera. Well, Mira gave me these tickets. They're second tier and a Monday matinée, but I was hoping … maybe … um…"

Laxus' eyebrow arched high as he read the ticket, and he glanced up at Freed in shock. "_The Marriage of Figaro_?"

Freed shrank down bashfully. "Is that okay?"

Laxus remembered his little daydream about living a life of peace with Freed and going to the opera together. It was now happening, and it made his hands shiver. Laxus suddenly thrust the envelop back.

Freed's expression shattered. "No?" he asked sadly.

"I can meet you at ten but no earlier, since I work until midnight."

Freed grinned excitedly. "Then you'll go?"

"I don't have a tuxedo."

"It's a matinée. You can come in anything. Well, maybe not leather pants, but just slacks and a button up shirt will be fine."

"Don't dress all fancy and make me look like an idiot."

"I'll probably wear something like what I'm wearing now. Really, people don't often dress in tuxedos and ball gowns these days," he chuckled, but then he stopped short, worried he might be offending Laxus. "Have … have you ever been to the opera?"

Laxus looked aside petulantly. "No," he muttered. "Not like I never wanted to. Just couldn't afford it. I like opera, though."

Knowing he could treat Laxus to something unique warmed Freed's heart. "It'll be fun. Keep your ticket."

"Idiot! Do you know how goddamn tight these pants are? Plus I'll be having lechers grope me all night. Tickets like this, I'll lose them for sure, and I don't want to miss _The Marriage of Figaro_. I happen to really like that opera, one of my favorites to listen to. I'm glad you didn't pick something depressing for our second date."

"D-d-date?" Freed stuttered. "Second?"

"Don't you consider drinks and a night in a hotel as our first date?"

"Oh! I didn't realize … that is…" He lowered his head. "I didn't know what to consider all of that, to be honest. I also wasn't sure if you wanted to count this as a date or just more _getting to be friends_ outing type of thing."

"I thought I made myself clear before. _More than friends._ Unless you don't want to be boyfriends with a stripper."

"N-No! That's fine. I don't mind, really. It's something you like to do, right? Strip dancing, that is."

"I dunno if I particularly _like_ it, but it's something I need to do."

"For … _clients_. Right," Freed muttered.

Laxus eyed him cautiously. "Is that a problem? If it is, we need to clear it up right now."

"It'll take some getting used to," Freed admitted honestly, "but I don't think it'll be a problem."

"You have no reason to be jealous. You know that those old men I beat up, and even those lechers out there, none of them turn me on. Only you do."

Freed smiled to hear him say so, but he still looked uncertain. "You may have to tell me that once in a while."

"Then I'll tell you." Laxus walked up to Freed and straddled his lap. "And I'll show you," he whispered sensually, thrusting his body up against the lithe man. "Over and over," he purred gruffly, "until it's etched into your body—"

"Nnngh!"

"Until not a single nerve questions me when I tell you that no one else in this world can turn me on like you can." He rotated his hips, rubbing playfully over the shaft sticking up through the loose slacks.

"L-Laxus!"

"Use the other name, Greenie." A single fingernail scrapped over Freed's lips, encircling them with light scratches.

"Aah! Tickles."

"Oh?" he smirked. "Should I soothe away the tickle?"

Laxus dived in and devoured those lips. He felt Freed's body stiffen, and the lump in his trousers hardened even more, straining against the fabric.

"Still got that condom on your dick, or did you shrink out of it?"

"I … I need to check."

"No." Laxus leaned in and kissed him harder. "I'll check."

His hand slipped under Freed's belt and wiggled through his underwear until finally he felt the arousal.

"Feels like it slipped a little." He thrust his hand down, and Freed jolted at the hard stroke.

"Aaaaah!"

"God, I love that voice of yours." Laxus pulled his hand out and palmed him through the trousers. "But you wanted this done as a dance, right?"

"If it pleases you, master," he begged breathlessly.

"Damn, you are _hot_," Laxus sneered as his groin thrust up against Freed's body. He began a slow rocking, taking his time. "Ya wanna come in your pants, huh?"

Freed could not answer. It felt so dirty, so perverted … and he wanted it so much.

"Did you secretly like that one time?" He thrust quicker as the music playing in the room changed to another, faster song.

"Not in front of everyone, but … but I did. I … I liked … being overwhelmed."

"Not in front of others, though, eh?" Laxus slowed and leaned down into Freed's ear. "Someone is watching us, ya know."

Freed's eyes snapped open.

"I told you, this room has a camera."

"No one actually watches it though, right?" he asked frantically.

"Who knows?" Laxus chuckled slyly. "Erza sometimes gets her kicks watching the videos. Did you see her in the audience today?"

"I … uh … no."

"Bob lets her know if someone bought a VIP room," Laxus explained as his hips swiveled, and Freed let out a high moan. "She'll go into the security hub and watch the videos, sometimes with Jellal there to help her get off. She can't hear us, but she can watch. Maybe she'll zoom the camera in on your face right … as … you … come!"

Freed groaned deeply and clutched Laxus' shoulders as he felt himself becoming overly aroused. It was the same problem he usually had, he just could not last long, but this time he decided not to hold back.

"Let me see what face you'll make for her," Laxus said seductively. "Eyes up!"

Freed raised his head, flushed cheeks, teary eyes, and all.

"Yes. That face. It makes me…" He pressed up firmly, and Freed felt a stiffness in the leather pants.

"Lax- … Thor!"

"Don't make that mistake again. I'm serious."

"Got it. But … you're…"

Laxus slid against him slowly. "Hard as a fucking rock."

"Oh God!" His hips moved on their own, wanting more friction.

"You're the only person who does this to me, the only one who excites me," Laxus said sensually. "Now I'm gonna etch into your body that you, and no one else, turns me on."

Freed twitched between Laxus' thighs, desperately thrusting up into him. "Th-Thor! Master! I'm … I'm really about to…"

"I know. Feel this," he said, frotting up against him, not even in time to the music anymore, "and remember that even if I give a lap dance to another man, they'll never feel _this_ rubbing against them. Only you. Only … you!"

Freed's body tensed and bowed backward on the couch. "Oh God! Master!" he cried out.

Laxus watched that face with amusement. He felt Freed's fingers grasp tightly, almost tearing the fabric of his shirt. Under him, that body convulsed, and he felt the jerks of Freed's hips. This was something magical. He could make men cum with ease, but somehow, this was more than just bodily fluid being released. It was a view of heaven. His angel was most glorious when succumbing to sin. Laxus slowed down to a soft undulation, until even that made Freed shiver.

"Heh! So, did you do it?" Laxus asked cunningly, wanting to keep his little green angel trapped earth-bound for a while longer.

Freed just panted, staring up at the ceiling.

"Tell me. Tell me what you just did," he ordered.

"I … did."

"Did what? Tell me exactly."

Freed shuddered at the sense of humiliation. "I … came … in my pants."

Laxus ran a finger down Freed's throat. "And who made you feel that good?"

"Y-you did, master."

"That's right. I like to make my slave tremble. I like to make you feel ashamed, and wonderful, and make you suffer the most intense pleasure. That's what I want to do to my precious slave."

Precious! Freed liked to feel beloved, and although _slave_ was a demeaning post for a wealthy son like him, he wanted this thunder god to lord over him. He felt like being the slave of this man was the most cherished role of all.

Laxus finally pulled back and straightened his clothes. "Now, let's get you cleaned up before that condom slips off and you really do make a mess."

"But the room!"

"You reserved it for an hour. It'll still be here. If you're lucky, I may give you more dances."

Laxus led him out of the room and down the hallway. As they came to the bathroom, they heard noises inside.

"Quiet, Sting. They'll hear you."

"Then don't … _ahhhn!_"

Freed blushed at the sounds. "Oh!"

"It's fine," Laxus grumbled. "It's those twin dragons again. They'll shut up real quick. Or … would you like to give them a show?"

"What?" Freed exclaimed.

"Let them know they're not the only ones."

"But … but I…" His head dropped. "I just came. I can't go again this quickly." He felt a hand suddenly drop on his head and ruffle his hair.

"I was joking, idiot."

Laxus banged the door open, and instantly the two others in the restroom fell silent. Freed was amazed they could go from gasping to dead silence like that. He saw no one around, but he noticed that the furthest stall was closed.

"Clean yourself up. Meet me back in the VIP room," Laxus ordered.

Freed was shocked he was leaving. "R-right!" he yelped. He rushed into a stall and disposed of the condom. He urinated, cleaned up, and left. However, he hesitated curiously outside the restroom door.

"Are they gone?"

"Yeah."

"God, that was close."

"Only because you're so loud. Now, where were we?"

"Ahh! Rogue, wait!"

"No. I need it. Now!"

"Nnngh! Slow down. Oh f- … Rogue! I'm … ah! _Ahhh!_"

"Sting. Oh God, Sting."

Freed laughed silently. He supposed he could hardly blame those two. Plenty of times, he had sneaked off to the strip club's restroom to quickly jerk off. If he came to a club like this with Laxus, he would much rather have his thunder god screw him in a restroom stall rather than take care of it himself.

**Next Chapter: "Master and Slave"**


	11. Master and Slave

Chapter 11

**Master and Slave**

When Freed entered the VIP room again, Laxus stood by what appeared to be an MP3 player built into the wall.

"What sort of music do you like?" the large man asked.

"Wh-what?" Freed stuttered in confusion.

"It's your turn, so you get to pick the music."

"My turn?" Then Freed remembered, he had offered to suck off Laxus. "O-oh!" His cheeks began to turn pink as he thought about it. He had blurted it out earlier, but the truth was that he had never given a blow job, he was afraid he would do it badly, and the VIP room of a strip club was not the most romantic place to have such a monumental first.

"Classical won't cut it," Laxus muttered. "Anyone who hears Mozart is gonna wonder what the hell is going on and peek in."

"Wait, people can _peek in_?" Freed cried out.

"The bouncers do if they think anything might be a problem. Screams, arguments, weird sounds. Classical music would be weird."

"What about … a love ballad?"

"Aw, ain't you just a fucking romantic," Laxus teased. He changed music selections, and Barry White began to croon over the sound system. "Next best thing. I personally added this song into the mix when I saw that they didn't have any Barry White. I mean, what the hell! Barry White is pure vocal sex!"

"I … I like this song," Freed muttered nervously.

Laxus smirked around his shoulder and over at him. "Yeah? Does it make you hot?"

"It … does, yes."

"You have a good taste in music."

Laxus turned back around and continued to fiddle with the volume. Freed glanced around, found a glass of water, and took a drink. His nervousness was making his throat dry.

"How the hell do you lower the bass on this stupid thing?" Laxus muttered.

Freed walked over behind him and looked over Laxus' shoulder at the wall-mounted player. Then his eyes drifted over to the blond. Laxus' face looked so serious as he tried to fix the balance of treble and bass. It was such a minor thing to fix, it would not change the enjoyment of the song all that much, yet he looked so focused. Freed began to wonder if Laxus was doing this because he was also a bit nervous and trying to put off the inevitable a bit longer. Laxus had said that no one had ever given him a blow job before. Maybe he was anxious and trying to hide it. Freed wanted to help break the ice, so he stood on tiptoes and licked the back of that brawny neck.

Laxus shivered at the hot wetness. "What the hell?"

Freed wrapped his arms around Laxus' wide body and licked again, from the tight muscles near the base of the neck, gliding his tongue up slowly along the spine, and up to the hairline, licking the first few strands of blond hair, moistening them and making them stand up. He felt Laxus' body jolting, and it made Freed smile that he could give back to the thunder god some of the pleasure he received.

"S-stop," Laxus whispered.

Freed was stunned by the whimpering sound. Was this a weakness? He wanted more! He licked along the edge of the neck, and then he kissed right at the hairline, softly sucking the neck with his lips, letting his mouth drag over the skin.

"Stop!" Laxus shouted, twirling around and pushing Freed away. One hand flew to the back of his neck to feel the wetness left behind. "Fuck, what the hell was that?" He leaned over as a burning sensation tingled his groin. Somehow, just that tiny bit had almost made him lose it.

"Did you like that, master?"

Laxus sharply looked up into those eager eyes. He felt lost, overwhelmed, slightly scared by these intense emotions that burned his chest. Freed truly was a client right now, and there were strict rules of conduct within the strip club. Right at that moment: _fuck the rules!_ He had been fantasizing over Freed for weeks, and now that he was here, Laxus was being conquered so easily.

He needed to somehow reestablish control over himself and the scenario.

"Sit," he ordered, although his voice still sounded faint from the shock of almost coming from a mere lick.

Freed sat on the couch again, and Laxus straddled him.

"W-wait!" Freed cried out.

"This is for me, not you," Laxus insisted, thrusting up against Freed. "Just feeling you under me—" He leaned over and licked Freed's neck, giving back the same sensual tenderness. "—just this much is all I need."

"L- … Thor."

"Just call me master. Here or somewhere else, that word is safe."

"If it pleases you, master."

"It does. _You_ do. My cute little slave pleases me very much. And I want to please my slave. You're mine. Mine alone. A slave can't have two masters, so you're only mine. My beloved slave."

Freed bit his lip in happiness to hear that.

"I want you to suck me, Greenie," he whispered into the flushed ear. "I wanna show that bastard Jellal, I do more than dance. Show him what I do to you. Make it so loud, the bouncers hear you."

He sucked on Freed's neck, and the young man writhed with a shuddering cry. He clutched tightly to Laxus as he felt erotic pain in his neck and the scrape of teeth.

"Yes, like that," Laxus moaned. "Shit, I'm ready to come just feeling you squirming. How can you do this to me so quickly? Sexy ladies, hot guys, a room full of people who want me to pleasure them, old men who would pay me a small fortune if they could just suck me off, and I can't get hard for any of them. You barely moan a little and…" He thrust up against Freed to show him the engorging results. "You do this to me, Greenie. No one else. I ain't ever let a person suck me, not because I'm chaste and shit, but because nobody gets me hard. Ya wanna be the first to taste me?"

"God, yes! I mean, if it pleases you, master," he moaned as he thought about this ultimate chance to show Laxus how much he would do to pleasure him.

Laxus stood and yanked off his loose shirt. "Don't do it so much that it hurts you, okay?"

"I won't. Not here, at least."

Laxus laughed wryly as he unthreaded his belt. Freed's heart began to race, and he caught himself licking his lips.

"That hungry?" Laxus asked, smirking at the eager face. He unzipped his leather pants and pulled out a cock already enlarged and wet on the tip. "Does my angelic slave want to eat from the fruit of sin?"

"Please," Freed whispered as the erection got closer. His mouth opened, and he began to lean forward with his tongue out to lick. Suddenly, a hand grabbed his hair and yanked his head up, tongue still lolling out. Laxus glared down at him with a playful twinkle in his blue eyes.

"Please … what?"

Freed cringed under the hair pulling. "Please, master, let me suck you."

The fingers released, and Laxus stroked the lengthy green hair in praise. "Good boy. Since you asked so nicely, I'll let you. But only you, got it!" Laxus stroked down his scalp. "Only you get to do this."

That exclusive privilege shivered in Freed's nerves. He felt even more potently how much of an honor this was, to be Laxus' pet, his slave … his first and only. He felt unworthy of the honor, and he wanted to show he would try to live up to such high expectations.

He looked at Laxus' cock sticking out from the leather pants. The audience out there in the hall blaring with music that he could just barely hear under Barry White crooning _Can't Get Enough of Your Love, Babe_, those people would never see this sight. Laxus would show them only the root of a limp, unaffected penis. None of them could make Laxus rise to attention like this. Nothing they did, even if they touched and groped him with their lecherous hands, nothing would cause this to happen.

Only him.

Freed reverently kissed that arousal. He lifted his eyes and met Laxus' gaze. It was a silent look of permission. He took the head of the cock past his lips, cradling it with his tongue. Slowly, he pressed his face closer, smelling the sweat of Laxus' skin, fresh from his dance both on stage and in this room, and a muskiness wafted around his nose. Sweat, leather, sexual musk, it all blended as his face pressed closer into the sculpted lower abdomen and his nose felt the tickle of pubic hairs. He could hardly stop the hedonistic groan that vibrated around that girth.

Laxus was silent as he watched his cock vanish into this man's thin, pale lips. His hand came down onto the green hair, stroking it, feeling the softness of that hair tumbling past Freed's shoulders. Girls in high school had offered to suck him, but he never got aroused enough. Old buggers had offered to pay him for the privilege, but he felt disgusted by the mere thought of their tongues on his skin. Freed, though … Freed was different. Laxus still was not sure what it was about this man—maybe he would never figure it out—but he knew he could finally experience this sort of indulgence with only one person.

Freed pulled back and looked up, worried about the silence. "Is it okay?"

"Don't you dare stop again," Laxus said, his voice hoarse as the intense pleasure betrayed him.

When Freed took Laxus' cock back inside his mouth and started to suck with more vigor, Laxus could no longer hold back a long and low moan.

"Damn, you're a talented cocksucker."

Freed groaned at the insulting praise.

"Do you like being called that? Maybe instead of calling you my slave, I should call you Cocksucker."

The feel and taste of it was excruciatingly good. Freed took it deep into his mouth, to the back of his throat, and then prolonged the suck back to the head, making an obscene noise around it as he kept it tight in his mouth, sucking hard, slurping. The hand on his head clenched, tugging at his hair. Freed pulled off to catch his breath and wipe his chin.

"I told you, don't you fucking stop!" Laxus growled.

"I'll drool on you."

"Then drool. Make it wet. Make my whole damn crotch wet. I want your spit in my pants, got it?"

Freed nodded and dived back down on the whole thing. Laxus could hardly help but grunt and thrust deeper, wanting more of that moist heat.

A part of Freed realized that his spit would be on Laxus' pants. Even if Jellal made him dance on the laps of a hundred men, they would never feel him hard, and his own spit would be rubbing on them. Laxus would only let them feel that much. His spit! This was his way to claim Laxus, coating him in saliva, shielding him with his mouth. It was like he was spitting in the faces of all those men, lechers who did not care about the individual, only about their own gluttonous desires.

"You're damn good," Laxus groaned.

Freed bobbed his head on Laxus' cock in earnest, closing his eyes, relaxing his throat, and sensing his returning arousal. Instead of focusing on his needs, he wanted to fulfill Laxus' desires. Last time, he had done almost nothing to show Laxus his deep appreciation. Now, he wanted to pleasure his thunder god, his lover, his … whatever they were.

"Freed…" Laxus whispered urgently.

He looked up, the cock still in his mouth, and saw Laxus' cheeks flushed and his teeth clenched. He was ready, but he was not ordering Freed to take it. He could have. Freed had partly expect him to grab his hair and demand "Swallow it all, bitch!" Instead, Laxus was showing a small bit of sensitivity. This was something truly intimate, and he was letting Freed make the call, whether to continue to suck, or to finish off with his hand. Freed smiled around the cock at the gentleness Laxus expressed only to him. To show his determination, Freed took hold of Laxus' muscular butt cheeks, pulled him closer, and kept sucking.

Laxus wanted to pound that throat, but he feared his strength. If this was some bastard client, he would not have thought twice about possibly hurting the person, but this was no client. Freed may have paid for his time in this room, but he was different. He was special. Laxus wanted to be rough and never hold back, but he did not want to actually hurt this slender man. Instead of slamming into Freed's throat, he let Freed take it at the speed he wanted…

Which was too damn slow!

"Greenie!" he snapped. "Speed up and make me come, bitch!"

Laxus swore he felt a purr of lust in that throat. The rapid back-and-forth of tight lips, now with extra suction, pulled him over the brink. His fingers clenched in Freed's hair, but somehow the man did not cry out and lose the grip of his lips. Laxus gasped three times, hips barely thrusting, as he came.

Hot, bitter semen flooded Freed's mouth. He groaned, swallowing it as best he could, but some overflowed his mouth, dripping from his lips and down his chin. Swallowing was hard. The cum was thick and stringy, sticking to the back of his throat. Suddenly, not meaning to, he pulled back and coughed.

"Greenie!" Laxus cried out, kneeling in front of him with worry.

"I'm fine," he coughed. "Swallowed wrong."

"You didn't need to swallow it, idiot." Laxus grabbed up a towel and a drink from a table beside the couch and handed both to Freed.

"Wanted to," Freed coughed. He wiped his face with the towel, but he did not spit anything out. He instead swallowed some liquid from the cup, only enough to get the thickness out of his throat. Finally, the choking stopped, and he looked up with tear-moistened eyes. "Did it please you, master?"

Laxus' face softened, and he placed a hand on Freed's thigh. "It did. Incredibly." As his hand slid up, he felt that the bulge had returned. "You're hard again. Did sucking me get you aroused?"

Freed looked aside with embarrassment. "Sucking my master is … pleasurable."

"Greenie."

The gentle voice made Freed stare in amazement at those tender blue eyes.

"Stand up."

Thighs shaking, Freed rose to his feet.

"Drop your pants."

He gasped softly, but he undid his belt, bashfully lowering his pants and underwear. Laxus sat on the couch and pulled Freed closer to him.

"I ain't never done this, so you gotta tell me if it's wrong," he said sternly.

"Master!"

"You've got talent, as I would expect from a man whom I want as my slave."

"Your … slave?" It was both demeaning and absolutely heartwarming, being the slave of the thunder god.

"You should be proud, but not arrogant," Laxus warned him, and Freed nodded in agreement. "So, since you're a natural-born cocksucker, you have to teach me your trick. That's my order!"

"Y-yes, master."

Laxus smirked, then nuzzled the erection, kissing him, and gave a peck to Freed's balls. "I want to pleasure my slave. That's what makes me happy."

Freed silently sighed, deeply touched, yet he had no clue what to say.

"But I ain't never done this. I don't like doing stuff I haven't tried. It makes me feel like I'm stupid. So don't tease me, or I'm outta here."

"Anything you do will pleasure me."

"I'm not joking," Laxus said harshly. "Tell me how you like it done, but don't laugh if I do it wrong."

"I understand," he solemnly swore.

Laxus nodded sternly, and then he faced the penis in front of him. This was definitely intimidating. Hurting others was his specialty, but giving pleasure was something new. Still, he tried to think about what Freed had just done. He mimicked as best as he could, licking softly up the shaft. Freed gasped and his body tensed. Laxus instantly pulled back in worry.

"That felt good," Freed quickly told him. "Like that."

Laxus relaxed and took just the head into his mouth, wrapping his lips just under the glans. Freed bit back a whimper.

"They can't hear you," Laxus muttered, lips flickering over the turgid arousal.

_They!_ Freed finally remembered that there was a camera somewhere in this room. There was a possibility that they were being watched, right now, filmed and broadcast onto a small monitor in some dark security room. The thought intimidated him, but then he remembered what Laxus had said. He wanted to show Jellal that he was more than just a dancer. Laxus wanted to prove himself. Freed decided, he would do anything to help.

He stroked the spiky blond hair. "More," he whispered gently.

Laxus obeyed the request, mouth working down the shaft an inch at a time before pulling back up to the tip to swirl his tongue.

"Oh God, that! Just like that," Freed cried out in a shudder.

There was a good reason Laxus had never sucked off any of his clients. Oh, plenty had offered outrageous sums of money to have that done, but Laxus only ever used his hands. Never his mouth. There was something about the mouth, the intimacy of it, a portal into the rest of his body. Hands were external. Even his cock was external. But his mouth? He did not want people to get _inside_ of him like that.

He did not trust putting something inside his body. He always figured it had to do with his father.

So as Laxus felt that cock enter, he cringed just a little. The taste was bitter but bearable, yet something flashed through his mind, some memory he did not fully recall as belonging to him, but he supposed it must have happened for it to be this vivid. Being tied down, straps over his chest and limbs, and something shoved in his mouth, a gag of some sort, shoved deep in his mouth so he would not bite his tongue. He briefly saw his father's cold eyes, but the rest of his face was hidden by a surgical mask. Then pain. His mind blanked out as soon as the pain began. Maybe he had passed out back then.

"Thor?"

That name, one that was not his own but somehow belonged to him, snapped him out. Whatever had been in his mouth was out now, and sad eyes were looking at him. Freed had knelt down, his pants still dropped, but he held Laxus' face, gazing worriedly.

"We can stop," he whispered.

Laxus only then felt moistness on his cheeks. He reached up in confusion. Were these tears? Why the fucking hell was he crying?

"Just … a memory," he muttered, lost between fantasy and reality, past and present.

The sadness deepened, and Freed combed his fingers through the short, blond hair.

"No, stand up," Laxus ordered. "Let me finish."

"If this is bad…"

"I _don't_ like not finishing what I start, no matter what," he insisted. "Now stand up!"

"Laxus," he whispered tenderly.

"Please, Freed," he said just as quietly. Those blue eyes flicked to a corner of the room. In a secretive whisper, he explained, "Dammit, but they likely are watching me. Especially Jellal, after I bitched on him earlier. He thought I had hurt you, drove you away from the club."

"You didn't hurt me," Freed insisted.

"That's what I told him. Now that you're back, he's probably eying me like a hawk to make sure I behave. Right now, he's probably wondering what the hell is going on. I need to finish this, and … and I want to."

Freed nodded in solemn understanding. "Where's the camera?"

"Southeast corner." His eyes motioned to the direction.

"Master, forgive me." Then Freed stepped aside, twisting his body just a little to be in profile with the camera. With wild gesticulations, he pointed to his crotch. "Suck it!" he shouted. "Hard, you bitch!"

Laxus arched an eyebrow high. What the literal-fuck?

"I don't care if you don't want to. You're gonna swallow it, you whore!"

"Greenie?"

Freed suddenly grabbed Laxus' head and practically smashed his face into his crotch. "Choke on it," he shouted outrageously loud, pulling Laxus' hair harshly.

"Ow, you fucker! What the hell?" Laxus roared in pain-driven rage.

The door to the VIP room suddenly opened, and one of the bouncers entered. "Problem?"

Laxus yanked back, and Freed turned away from the door, which just so happened to angle him closer to the camera. Laxus rubbed out the pain in his scalp, but a second later he finally understood what Freed was getting at. He held back a smile, scowled instead, and lashed out at the green-haired man.

"Don't you _ever_ fucking pull my hair again. I told you, this is on _my_ terms!" Then he looked back to the large bouncer. "It's fine, Jura. He's never been in a VIP room. I guess I didn't explain the limits clearly enough."

"Does he need a _lesson_?" Jura asked, cracking his knuckles.

"No, it's fine. It won't happen again."

"I'm right down the hall," the bald man said, and he left.

Laxus glared over at Freed. "You little bitch," he said, his face terse but his voice inflecting amusement.

"You were crying. I had to make it seem legit," he explained.

"You're damn brilliant, that's what you are." Laxus stalked over to Freed and glared down at him. "Must be that rich boy schooling, eh?"

He tried not to look cocky, but his voice betrayed him. "You could say that planning ahead in battle is a specialty of mine."

"I really do wanna see you swordfight." Laxus reached down and stroked him. "But right now, I want more of this _sword_."

"You really don't have to. No one would question if you didn't, not after that."

Those large fingers squeezed Freed's cock, painful but only enough to be pleasurable. "I said I want more, so shut the hell up. Now, I assume you're standing precisely here to be at a good angle."

"They'll see you swallow me."

"Good. Let them watch you. Make it a good show, Greenie."

"If it pleases you, master."

Laxus dropped to his knees and licked up the shaft. He was half conscious of where the camera was, and he tilted his head just a little to show off his lapping tongue. If Jellal and Erza really were watching—and since Jura arrived so swiftly, he guessed they must have sent a warning down to the bouncer at the first signs of trouble—then he wanted that bastard and his way-too-good-for-him wife to see just how much pleasure he could give to a _client_.

Laxus' fingers racked over the skin of Freed's hips, nails scraping lightly against his pale flanks, relishing the full-body tremor as he flattened his tongue to lick at the frenulum. Freed moaned loudly—far too loudly and erotically—as Laxus eased into a steady pace, lips wrapped around the erection. The wet sucking noises of saliva being dragged up and down made a secondary tempo as the music changed from Barry White to Marvin Gaye singing _Let's Get It On_.

Freed briefly wondered what sort of soundtrack this was. Seventies Sex-To-Music Soul?

Laxus bobbed his head, taking as much of Freed into his mouth as possible. The high moan struck deep within him, but he felt well-sated for the moment. It was just a tenseness in his gut, as if his brain was asking his cock if it should respond, but his libido answered instead. His dick never did listen to his brain anyway. He felt Freed's cock grow thicker, firmer against his tongue.

Fingers tighten in Laxus' hair, "Oh _God,_ Thor," Freed's voice trembled. "Don't stop, just … don't…" Suddenly, he began to gasp, air spiraling up his chest, higher and higher, louder and quicker. His thighs quivered, his fingers curled, flexed, and curled again within the sweat-stiffened blond hair.

Laxus felt those thin hips thrust erratically. There were no more nightmares now. Just Freed. Just this. Just them.

"Lax- … Tho- … Master!" Freed panted, unable to articulate. "I'm going to…"

His breath suddenly hitched and his body went rigid for three seconds, everything still, aside from his fingernails scraping, quivering, through the blond hair. Then suddenly, a grunt that sounded more like a sob punched out from deep within Freed's chest, and it felt as if his muscles all snapped at once. His head threw back, only faintly aware that he was probably giving one hell of a show. All he cared about was this feeling, stronger than his first orgasm, perhaps because he realized he was not merely coming into a condom. A jolt, another, a powerful third, rocked him. He felt the tongue on him, moving the cum spilling out over to the back of Laxus' mouth. Then he felt swallows around his sensitive cock.

Laxus' eyes closed as the bitter tang pulsed across his tongue. He was letting something into his body again. However, there were no weird flashbacks anymore. Nothing in his past was like this. Nothing compared! The taste, the smell, the feel of this body responding to him, nothing in the universe compared.

He opened his eyes to watch Freed gasp and twitch in aftershocks. It was probably the most beautiful sight Laxus had ever seen, this thinly muscular body reacting to something that was not at all painful, but pure pleasure. He held Freed in his mouth until his breathing evened out and he softened on Laxus' tongue. When Laxus finally let his mouth slip away, Freed trembled.

"You're a good teacher."

Freed was flushed and still breathing raspily. "I hardly instructed you at all."

"On the contrary, I think I learned a lot." Laxus stood and towered over Freed. He tipped the thin jaw up. "I wouldn't mind more _lessons_, though."

Freed gazed up. He saw the shininess on Laxus' lips. _His_ shininess. "Kiss me?" he requested softly, as if fearing this was taboo.

Laxus' eyes showed, it was. "I can give you a lap dance, a blow job, even kiss you as foreplay, but kissing afterward … that's probably pushing it. Kissing … it's not _necessary_. Not in this job."

Freed's eyes drifted down in disappointment.

"Help me clean up," Laxus ordered.

Freed looked up in shock.

"Restroom. No cameras. We can kiss in there."

"Right," he nodded.

They both pulled on their clothes, but Laxus left his shirt open. They left the VIP room to the restroom. Sure enough, as they began to approach, there were sounds again inside, but different voices.

"Gray!"

"I'm serious, don't call me that in this place."

"But your hands … so good!"

Laxus chuckled to himself. "I _knew_ they were on a first-name basis." He paused and looked down at Freed. "I'm gonna ask a favor of you. Be vocal, and don't you _dare_ call me anything but master."

"Y-yes, master."

"I'm fuckin' serious."

"Understood."

Laxus burst through the doors, and the sounds inside stopped. These two were less skilled at going silent, though. A higher sound kept breathing hard, struggling. Freed wondered for only a second before recalling Laxus accidentally slipping that _Ice Prince's_ real name was Gray. He wondered if the other was Pinkie.

They both went into a toilet stall together, and Laxus suddenly thrust Freed hard against the divider wall, making it shake. He kissed fervently and loudly, sloppy sounds of making out.

"M-Master!" Freed cried out.

"Insatiable," Laxus scolded, grinning as he realized Gray would definitely recognize his voice.

"You … you taste like me," Freed moaned.

"Well, that's your cum on my tongue." Laxus thrust his tongue back into Freed's mouth, and the man gagged at the forcefulness of the kiss. "This is how good your cock tastes, you sexy little bitch."

There was a low groan down the way.

Laxus raised up, grinning, trying so hard not to laugh. Freed also thought this was amusing. Laxus was obviously trying to show off to a coworker.

"Please, master," Freed purred

"You have a VIP room waiting for you, y'know."

"But here … please! We can't do _that_ in one of those rooms, right?" he reasoned, stroking his hands over the back of Laxus' neck and up into the hairline.

"Oh shit," Laxus shivered, and it was not at all make-believe. Freed's hands were enticing him all over again.

Freed groaned noisily. "Please, do me, master."

"Not in the club!"

"Master knows I don't like to wait."

"Little bitch. Master is getting angry."

"Oh, please punish me again. You know how much I love it."

Across the restroom, they heard Gray and that pink-haired kid groaning together. Laxus had to pull back and cover his mouth to stifle laughs. He swore, Freed should take up acting classes.

"Please, master." This time, Freed did not look like he was playing along. His eyes were heavy with desire. His hands ran up Laxus' barrel chest. "Please," he begged softly. "I need you. I need the way you make me feel. Please."

Shit, this little masochist was tempting as hell! "I get off work at midnight," he said.

"I don't want to wait."

"You have to. Did you bring your supplies?"

"I … um … n-no," he admitted.

"Then after your time in the VIP room is done, I suggest you hurry home and get them. Meet me back here."

"Will you … use that thing on me again?"

"I left it at home. Maybe … I could buy something else for you."

"Like what?"

"I'll think of something. A new toy for being a good slave."

"Master!" Freed mewled.

Laxus kissed him deeply again. His hand drifted down, but there was no hardness in Freed. Not surprising, considering the man had come twice already.

"Are you sure you're good for a third time tonight?"

"Third?" he heard someone whisper down the way. That was not Gray's voice. Was Pinkie impressed with Greenie after all?

"I'm always ready for you, master."

"Let me wash up. Wait in the room like a good little slave."

"Will master hurry?"

"Master will take his own goddamn time," Laxus smirked.

"If it pleases you, master."

Laxus leaned into Freed's ear and whispered hotly, "You please me." He kissed Freed's ear, then his neck, on down, and finally latched his lips onto Freed's collar, sucking hard.

"Ahhhhhn!" Freed moaned loudly, quivering in his arms.

"Oh fuck," he heard down the stalls. Gray's voice, definitely. Laxus wondered if Pinkie had reacted in some way to Freed's moaning.

Laxus pulled back to see Freed's eyes glazed. A pink oval was coming up on the side of his neck. "That's my mark of ownership. You're mine tonight. No one else can touch you, got it?"

"Y-yes, master," Freed moaned, really loving the thought of being marked by this thunder god.

"Good boy. Wait for me in the room."

Freed left, and Laxus peed. He washed up, hearing low but distinct sounds down the way. He thought about tormenting Gray for being such a goddamn good dancer, but he decided not to make him and Pinkie wait longer. He left, and as soon as the restroom door closed, he heard their moaning voices start up loudly.

"Fuck, give the person time to walk away from the door," Laxus muttered to himself. He saw Jura down the hall. Although the bouncer was technically supposed to stop people from having sex in the restroom, that never happened. It was just a threat to keep too many from trying.

"Everything cool, man?" Jura asked.

"We've worked things out. Thanks."

"Only time I see you in a VIP room is with one of those rich old men you like."

"I don't _like_ them."

"Well, whatever. That young guy isn't bad looking, I guess. Not like I swing that way. It's a first for you, though, someone your age."

"Yeah, plenty of firsts tonight," he grinned privately. "What's the time?"

Jura checked his watch. "Quarter to nine. I'll knock when time is up."

"Take your time, Jura," Laxus said with a private smile.

The bald man gave him an understanding wink. "I _might_ forget to check my watch."

"You deserve a raise."

"Tell that to the boss-man."

Inside the room, Freed was waiting for Laxus on his knees, head bowed. Laxus froze at the posture of a slave in submission. He only briefly realized, anyone bothering to still watch the video would also see this.

"Master was away for so long." Freed kept his eyes down.

"Don't complain," he said sternly.

"It's not a complaint. What does master want?"

"To get rid of that damn camera so I can know if you're doing this for real or just for show," he grumbled.

Freed glanced up finally. "I'm probably taking this master/slave thing too far, aren't I?"

Laxus strode up and put a hand on his head. "I don't mind one bit. Only do it as far as you like, though. If it's too weird, too submissive, then don't do it. We'll figure out what we both like."

Freed nodded, and at the offer, he stood up. Being on his knees like he had seen in dom/sub pornos was just too uncomfortable.

"We still have half an hour. What do you want to do?" asked Laxus.

"Can we do nothing?"

"We can do anything."

"Cuddle on the couch?"

Laxus chuckled and pulled Freed in close, clutching the lean body against him. "You're a damn romantic," he whispered.

"Do you mind?"

"Not one bit!"

They sat together on the massive couch, and Freed curled up into Laxus. Laxus glanced once to the camera. If anyone was still watching … oh hell, like he even cared what they thought anymore. He ignored any potential audience and gazed down to Freed. The poor man looked exhausted. Laxus began to stroke back the long hair, and Freed smiled at being petted.

"Tell me about your roommate," Laxus said softly.

Freed glanced up in surprise at the question.

"I want to know more about you. Your roommate: is he gay?"

"Oh, hell no! A lady's man to the core. Prolific, at that. The dorm nicknamed him _The Lion_ because we joke that he can mate forty times a day. He's actually the reason I began coming here on Saturdays. I'd leave until midnight, so he could have his fun with the ladies."

"Good looking?"

"He's straight. I don't hit on straight guys."

Laxus scowled. "So he's handsome."

"Drop-dead," Freed confessed with a shrug.

"What would he think if I came over to your dorm for a night?"

Freed gasped. "R-Really?" Bringing someone home and kicking Loke out: what a change that would be from the norm.

"Just curious," Laxus said gruffly.

"Knowing Loke, he'd say _All's fair_ and leave to flirt with a girl at a bar or something. He's a cool guy. He doesn't mind that I'm gay, and he _tries_ to accommodate."

"What the hell does that mean?" Laxus asked jealously.

"He got a porn vid once of a foursome: tattooed chick, straight guy, bisexual guy, and a gay guy. I have to admit, other than an obscenely large amount of screen time for the woman, the video was hot, although it was in French."

"Have you and your roommate ever masturbated together?"

"At the same time while watching porn together, yes. Touching one another, hell no. We're friends, and we keep it to that."

"Would you like to watch porn with me?"

Freed smirked up at him. "I wouldn't want to just watch it."

"It could be fun. Watch, get inspiration, tease one another, try to mimic the insane contortions of the actors."

"So long as there are no women in the videos. Sorry, but naked ladies just really turn me off."

"When you go home, pick one of your videos. We'll watch it at the hotel tonight."

"Then it's a date."

Freed smiled, and he leaned into the large chest again. He felt safe with Laxus, like this strong man could always protect him from anything. He felt devoted already. He would love to have this man all to himself, but he knew, he was like lightning, a flash of glory, but too much for one person.

"I'll leave right after time is up," Freed said softly. "I don't want to have to watch you dance for others."

Laxus stroked down his hair. "I told you, you don't have to be jealous."

"I know, but it'll take some getting used to."

Laxus pulled him in closer and gave a clandestine kiss to Freed's forehead. "You're marked as mine, Greenie. No one else gets my mark."

Freed smiled to himself and touched his neck. The mark of the thunder god! "They say lightning never strikes twice."

"Thor can strike his lightning anywhere he damn well pleases," Laxus said, not caring if it sounded like a corny boast.

They both laughed, and their noses rubbed together. They gazed into one another's eyes, so close they could see the details of the irises, the streaks of colors, and the dilation of the pupils. They could feel the breathes from their nostrils mingling, and they felt like their hearts had begun to beat at the same rapid pace.

"Laxus," he whispered, "I don't care about the cameras. Kiss me. Please."

Laxus stroked the blushing cheek and gazed down at the waiting mouth. "If they don't like this, screw them!"

Tenderly holding Freed's face, Laxus leaned in and gave him a firm, lingering kiss on the lips.

Let them watch! Fuck Jellal! Fuck the club rules against exclusive relationships with clients! Fuck his own insecurity! He wanted this man.

With a tremble, Laxus realized he had fallen in love!

**Next Chapter: Opera Date**

* * *

_A/N: _Songs mentioned in this chapter include "Can't Get Enough of Your Love, Babe" by Barry White and "Let's Get It On" by __Marvin Gaye_._ I do not own either of these songs.__


	12. Opera Date

Chapter 12

**Opera Date**

Laxus felt awkward as hell standing outside the Magnolia Opera House. He had on the nicest clothes he owned, a red button-up dress shirt and black slacks he used rarely, but with faded and scuffed black riding boots that he knew were a horrible mismatch. He had tried to tame down his hair, but the gel broke free and the blond strands stuck out even wilder than usual. Patrons arriving stared warily at him, and he knew it was because of the scar running down his eye.

"Where the hell are you, Greenie?" he grumbled. He checked his watch again.

After their night in a hotel, they had curled together in bed and talked about their upcoming date. Laxus began to realize that Freed saw this as a first "real" date, whereas he counted their two hotel nights as dates. He supposed their interpretations of what a date was were different.

Laxus had to be honest with himself: he had not been on a proper "date" since high school when he took a girl to Prom. He had to look up online for advice on what to do. He hated going into a situation unprepared.

"You're here!"

He jolted. He had been looking south, where most of the people were arriving. Freed appeared out of nowhere from the north, surprising him. The green-haired man had a bright smile. Although he always dressed nice, this was the first time Laxus had seen him properly in full daylight. Both times in the hotels, Laxus slipped away in the early morning, not wanting their time together to be ruined by an awkward goodbye.

Now, he saw just how much that green hair gleamed in the sunlight. Freed's face nearly glowed with radiant joy. For a moment, Laxus could not speak.

"You're late." He realized he said it gruffly, but he was struggling not to exclaim something stupid, like _'Wow, you look amazing!'_

"Sorry. I hate the south parking lot. It's crowded and takes forever to get back out with all the cars exiting. The north lot costs slightly more, but it's better, more spaces, easier to exit."

Laxus was reminded that Freed had gone to this opera house—a place Laxus used to dream about visiting some day—enough times to even know where the good parking spots were. It was intimidating to get into a situation where he was the inexperienced one and his partner was the one who knew all the tricks.

"You look really great," Freed said quietly, discreetly eying him up and down.

"You too," Laxus said softly.

"Should we go inside?"

Laxus nodded and followed Freed, joining the flow of patrons entering the opera house.

Since it was a matinée, most of the people around him were older, retired couples who were free in the middle of a weekday. That just made Laxus feel like they stuck out even more.

"The seats are upstairs," Freed said.

Laxus realized he was gazing around at the architecture like an idiot. Maybe Freed was used to the building, but Laxus had never been inside a structure quite like it. The ceiling soared, with a crystal chandelier lighting the grand foyer, frescoes painted on the walls, marble columns evoking a Roman feel, and gilded filigree on the doors of every entryway. He really saw the difference between their two worlds in the opulence of this building.

Freed watched how Laxus gazed around. "Um … we still have some time. Do you just want to walk around the foyer?"

Laxus jolted, caught gawking. "N-nah, it's fine."

"It's your first time here," Freed shrugged. "Let's look around. Oh, I know! Gift shop, this way. I want to look through it. You can wait for me outside, look around while I browse."

Laxus knew Freed was saying this just for him, but he was slightly glad. "Don't you dare buy me a fucking concert teeshirt or shit— uh…" He realized that his profanity had caused a few old ladies to scowl at him. "I mean, I don't think wearing a _Marriage of Figaro _shirt really fits my image."

"Not really," Freed chuckled. "Don't worry, I just like to see if they have a CD of the music. I don't have a recording of this opera."

"I do. Don't buy me one."

"I won't. Hey!" He reached into his wallet and pulled out some money. "I want a glass of wine before the show. There should be enough money for you, as well. The drink vendor is down the corridor to the left. Make mine a riesling, okay?"

Laxus took the money, surprised Freed was giving him this much. Was wine truly that expensive around here? He drifted off while Freed went into the gift shop. He saw the line for the drink vendor. There was not much of a selection, and the elitist aura permeated even what beverages were sold. There was club soda and tea for those who did not drink, mimosas for the brunch crowd, martinis, champagne, and a wine list that sounded like something out of his high school French class textbook. No beer, no whiskey, nothing hard and strong.

When he got to the vendor, he still had no clue what these wines were, so he just said "Two rieslings." When in doubt, order the same thing. That way if he did not like it, Freed could drink it.

The money Freed gave him was way more than he needed, and Laxus pocketed the change to give back to Freed. He did not want to take money from him. Laxus was fine taking money from clients, but … Freed was _not_ a client. He wanted to do this date properly, but he realized there was no way he would have bought a glass of wine at those prices, and he likely could not afford anything in the gift shop. This was Freed's world, and under the soaring vaulted ceiling, with posh benches where ladies wearing pearls gossiped and soft carpeting under his scuffed boots, Laxus realized he was an alien in this strange world where money flowed with ease.

Freed bounded out of the gift shop with a bag. "I got just a little something. Hey, thanks for the wine." He took the glass, swirled the wine around, sniffed it, and took a sip. It was such a refined way of drinking.

Laxus dug into his pocket and yanked out the bills, now slightly crumpled. "Your change," he said roughly.

"Oh, you can keep it," he said lightly.

"No," he said, and his voice was adamant.

"Then use it to go buy something in the…"

"No!"

Freed looked distraught, but he still did not take the money back. "Let's not start off this way, Laxus. Today is my treat. I can't … do for you what you do for me," he said carefully, blushing just slightly. "Let me do at least this much. Keep the money. Be glad I didn't use it to buy you flowers."

"Oh, fuck you," he muttered, but he made sure it was quiet enough not to upset more patrons.

Freed laughed softly. "I saw something you might like." He waved Laxus to come inside the gift shop. "A DVD of the opera, filmed right here in Magnolia, same cast as today. This way, you can watch it at home whenever you don't want me to treat you like this."

"I … don't really mind you doing this," Laxus grumbled, picking up the DVD. "It's not like I hate it. It just makes me feel awkward."

Freed thought this timid side to Laxus was adorable, but he would never tell him that. "Then let me make you feel even more awkward and buy the damn DVD."

Laxus scowled at him, but it cracked into a smile. "Fine!" he grumbled, and he took it up to the cashier, smoothing out the bills he had crumpled to pay for it. There was still just a little money left over, enough for bus fare back home.

Freed walked out to let Laxus do his purchase without having someone there to embarrass him more. Just as he was gazing around the foyer with his wine, a tiny elderly woman approached him, glaring up at Freed.

"You and that blond brute: are you two gay?"

Freed gulped the wine hard, stunned by such a direct question. "I am. He's…" Freed glanced back to the gift shop with a tiny smile. "…undefinable."

"You faggots make me sick," she said, loud enough to attract some attention. "You should be ashamed of yourself, having sex with a man, especially one like that. He's obviously way below the status of a refined gentleman like you."

Freed steeled back his initial emotions and put on a mask of civil amiability. "Ma'am, for one, he and I are not having sex. We are dating, and although it's none of your business, I am a virgin, so please do not make assumptions about my virtue. Two, my boyfriend's father is a world-renown scientist. He is also closely acquainted with many politicians and CEOs. You should not judge him by his looks." He left off that Laxus' father was infamous for his crimes against humanity, and his _close acquaintances _were masochistic clients. "If you dislike my sexual orientation for religious reasons, you are free to follow your religion; however, if you insult me and my boyfriend with homophobic verbal abuse, I know the prima donna _and _the general director very well, and my family have been benefactors of this opera house for three generations. I can have you escorted off the premises for badgering a patron." His fake smile never slipped.

The tiny lady glared scathingly. "Sinners going to hell, that's what you are." Her eyes drifted behind him, and Freed heard those riding boots walking up to him. "I'll pray for your souls." Then she turned away in a huff.

Freed waved with a stiff smile. "Your prayers are appreciated, ma'am. Please enjoy the show." Then, under his breath, Freed muttered in annoyance, "_Bitch._"

Laxus came up right against Freed and whispered down into his ear. "Was she saying what I think she was saying?"

"I'm used to it," Freed sighed.

"You shouldn't have to be _used to it_. If someone dared talk that way to me, I'd punch 'em."

Freed glanced up with a worried but amused expression. "Laxus, she's a little old lady."

"Shouldn't matter. Okay, maybe I'd only slap her, but only because she'd probably fall and break a hip if I used my fist."

"Sheesh," Freed laughed, but he felt happy that Laxus was acting defensively in his behalf. "So, did you buy that DVD?"

Laxus shook his little bag. "Are you happy now?"

"Very!" Freed said with a beaming grin. "Let's find our seats."

They went inside the main theater and up to the second tier, where Freed double checked his ticket to get into the correct seats. They sat with the house lights low, sipping wine.

"Ain't half bad," Laxus decided, looking at his wineglass. "A bit fruity, but not totally crap."

"It better not be crap!" Freed chuckled. "My family procures the wines that are sold here. Dad is an amateur sommelier."

"The hell's that?"

"Wine expert."

"Your family makes wine?"

"No, we buy the wine and donate it to the opera house. My grandfather started it, and it's a family tradition now. It's also a nice tax write-off."

"You live in a totally different world," Laxus muttered.

"It's not such a bad world," Freed shrugged. "At least we have not-totally-crap wine."

"Smart ass," Laxus grumbled with a smirk.

The lights dimmed, and the overture began to play. Laxus watched the stage as Figaro and Susanna—played by Mira—sang _Cinque, dieci, venti_. As the story played out, sung in Italian but with subtitles broadcast above the stage, Laxus lost himself in the music and theatrics. He laughed at Cherubino, and he admired the sweet voice of Susanna.

Freed glanced over at Laxus many times. Seeing this joy warmed his heart. Discreetly, he reached over and put his hand over Laxus' thigh. Laxus was pulled out of the story by the touch. He looked down at the lithe fingers, and then took them into his own. They squeezed one another's hands in the dark theater while the audience was focused on the opera.

When the fourth act was done, Laxus was left in awe. Then, while others left the opera house, Freed pulled Laxus backstage.

"Freed!" Laxus exclaimed softly, looking around at the props and stagehands. "Freed, we shouldn't be back here."

"It's fine," he said, and he pulled Laxus on by the hand. He came to a door with the name "Mirajane Strauss" on the front and gave a knock. "Mira, it's me!"

The door opened. Still in the costume of Susanna but with her wig removed, the white-haired lady greeted Freed with a hug.

"I'm so glad you made it," she cried out. "So, did you like the show?"

"Amazing, as always," Freed smiled. "When you and the Countess switched roles, that was just brilliant."

"Lyra is an amazing singer. I think sometimes, she should have been Susanna, but her voice fits the Countess."

"You will always be the prima donna of this theater, Mira." Then he looked back and saw Laxus standing stoically in the doorway. "Oh, this is my … friend," he said, tripping over the word awkwardly. "Laxus, Mirajane Strauss. Mira, this is Laxus … um … just Laxus." Freed cringed as he realized that Laxus still had not given him his last name.

Laxus stuck out his hand. "Charmed," he said, figuring it was a proper enough greeting.

"My!" Mira whispered, eying him up and down as they shook hands. "Just Laxus, eh? Interesting name. So, what do you do?"

Freed's mouth dropped open that she would immediately ask something like his employment.

"Dancer," Laxus said curtly.

"Oh! We could use someone for the ballet corps. None of our men are strong enough to lift the ladies high enough for _Swan Lake_."

Laxus smirked ironically. "Not really my forte. I'm more into … modern dance."

"Too bad. I would _love_ to see you perform."

Freed sounded like he was choking. "Ah, we … we should let you finish getting changed. I just wanted to let you know I came to see the show. Uh … Laxus, let's go."

Mira called out as Freed tried to hurry Laxus out. "I'll be done in a few minutes. We should catch up, Freed. Luncheon, my treat. There's no way you're saying no," she said with a playful wink. However, her eyes shift to Laxus. "You can stay for lunch, right?"

"I planned on hanging out with Freed all day," Laxus told her.

"Good," she smiled, eying him again. "Well, boys, excuse me for just a moment. There are pastries in the east wing. Go help yourselves and wait for me there." Then she shut her dressing room door.

Freed groaned as they walked away. "Oh God, I can't believe she was flirting with you." He looked up at Laxus timidly. "Sorry about that. She's never like that around me."

"Because she knows you're gay, Freed," Laxus reasoned, walking and keeping his eyes straight ahead. "All she knows about me is that I'm your _friend_." It came across far more bitter than he had intended.

Freed cringed. "S-sorry. I … I wasn't sure if it was okay to introduce you as a … as … well, whatever we are."

Laxus suddenly shoved Freed behind some background scenery, into a space between the framed cloth drop and the brick wall barely wide enough for two people. He slammed Freed up against the wall and kissed him roughly, thrusting his tongue in and biting Freed's lip. Then his mouth went down, just under the collar to be out of public view, and sucked up a love bite.

"L-Laxus!" Freed trembled. "N-not here!"

Laxus pulled back and glared at him. "Don't make me repeat myself again. You are my boyfriend. You're mine! If you're ashamed of that, tell me outright and I'll leave your posh little world."

"I'm not ashamed," Freed insisted. "I feel like … like it's too good to be true. Like this is just a play, the curtain will fall, and I'll be alone in the dark again." His eyes dropped to the side. "I don't want to scare you away, or claim you if you don't feel the same way."

"I don't scare easily, but I do get mad. Introduce me as _just a friend_ again, and I'll palm your dick in front of whoever you say that to."

"I got it," he breathed heavily, flushing as he thought about Laxus doing precisely that.

Laxus smirked with amusement. "Got you excited?"

"Y-yeah."

"Well, I could suck you off right here." He lightly touched the stiffness in Freed's pants. "You really are hard, you horny cocksucker. I bet you'd love it." He leaned in closer. "Right here, with your little opera buddies all around us, all this high society bullshit, and I'd suck you off until you completely fall apart. Maybe I'll wash it down with some of your family's fancy wine. Wine and cum. Sounds delectable."

"Nngh!" he trembled, trying to stay quiet, but Laxus' words were making the stiffness harden more, despite the fact that Laxus was barely touching him. "N-no. Not here."

He retreated. "I won't. I'm mad now, so you get punished. You have to wait until tonight. Oh, and clear up with your Barbie Doll friend that I'm off-limits, or else I really will thrust my tongue into your mouth while she watches."

Freed did not dare admit that part of him wanted Laxus to do that anyway. "Laxus?"

"What?" he snapped.

"Your name. I know you value your privacy, but how can you really expect me to understand that we're dating when I don't even know your last name, or your phone number, or where you live, or _anything_ personal about you?"

Laxus hesitated. He really did prefer to keep his private life hidden, yet he also felt that if there was anyone he could open up to and allow them to enter into his dark hell of a world, it was this green angel who was showing him a glimpse of gilded heaven.

"Dreyar," he said softly. "Laxus Dreyar." He reached to Freed's belt and yanked his cellphone out of its carrying case. He tapped in some information, and then thrust it back at him. "Now you can call me." Then Laxus walked off, but not before Freed saw the blush creeping up toward his ears.

Freed slipped out from behind the scenery while gazing down at his phone. There was the name: Laxus Dreyar, and after it was the number that could connect them at any time. He pressed SEND and held the phone up to his ear. Down the wing, he saw Laxus pause and pull out his cellphone.

"Yo," he said gruffly.

"I just wanted to make sure you gave me the right number."

"You're an idiot." Immediately, Laxus hung up and kept walking away.

While he was stowing his cellphone away, Mira suddenly bounced up beside Freed, holding onto his arm. She wore all Stella McCartney, from her casual and girlie blouse, to the skinny jeans that probably cost more that the average person's monthly rent. She had her hair done up, her makeup perfect, and Freed smelled a little touch of perfume wafting around her. It was far too obvious that she was dressed to impress and ready to flirt.

"Ready to go? Where's your hot friend?" she asked, looking around eagerly.

"Um, Mira," Freed said awkwardly. "Um … well, what makes you interested in Laxus?"

She looked surprised, but she thought about it. "He looks like the wild boy sort. He's got amazing muscles. He's quiet, that's easy to tell. Maybe I like the stoic-and-strong type," she guessed.

"Then you're not the only one," he said, hoping she would take a hint.

"Aww, does he have a girlfriend?" she pouted.

"N-no!"

"Oh, good! Then that means he's available."

"No!"

"But you said he's not dating anyone."

"Us," he said in an embarrassed fluster. "W-we. Him, me. We're on a date," Freed blurted out.

She blinked in confusion. "Huh? You two? Wait, are you trying to woo him? Freed, I thought you always say you don't hit on straight guys, and someone like him, he's totally straight."

"Well, he's not," Freed snapped. "Laxus is my boyfriend. This is our third date already."

"Oh poo!" she huffed. "All the cute ones are gay."

Freed chuckled. "That means you think I'm cute."

She grabbed him and rubbed her cheek against his arm. "You're definitely cute, Freed! You're the cutest, sweetest guy I know."

Suddenly, the body she was holding was yanked from her grasp. Laxus had Freed in a possessive hold, shielding him from her.

"No offense, lady," he said, trying to sound polite, yet his jealousy crackled like thunder, "but back the hell off." He looked down to Freed. "Does she need to be shown?"

"N-no!" Freed squeaked. "It's fine. Mira and I are just good friends, and she's the touchy-feely sort, that's all. It's okay, really."

"Shown what?" Mira asked curiously, smiling at the two. They had to be the most oddly matched gay couple she had ever seen.

"This," Laxus said.

He grabbed Freed, tipped him back low, and kissed him hard, tongue plunging in, hands clutching that lean body in a lewd way. Mira covered her mouth as her face went red. Stage crews going back and forth paused and looked over in shock. Someone whistled a catcall. Just as fast, Laxus raised back up and lifted Freed onto his feet. He swayed a bit, his green hair tussled and his lips swollen.

"Got it," Mira said, blushing brightly now. Scratch that thought of them being _oddly matched_. These two were the _hottest_, most passionate gay couple she had ever seen.

Freed whispered in a daze. "Don't do that again."

"You like it," Laxus smirked, and he walked away. "Let's go. I'm hungry. The lady said she's buying."

Freed straightened his clothes. "Forgive him. He's … _crude_ at times."

"You're such a studious guy, Freed. Do you really like this sort?" she asked.

Freed glanced to Laxus' retreating body. "Definitely!"

**Next Chapter: Can't Be Caught**

* * *

_A/N: In case you're wondering, Stella McCartney jeans cost $300 to $1100 USD. Mira is a prima donna and dresses in top brands._

_"The Marriage of Figaro" by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart is a comic opera. The famous overture is used in many commercials._


	13. Can't Be Caught

Chapter 13

**Can't Be Caught**

Once again, Freed was in the South Pole Club on a Saturday night. Even after he and Laxus began dating, he returned here again and again, maybe more frequently than before, when he came only to be teased and aroused. Now he watched the show.

Or at least, he watched one man.

"Thor is on second again," Bob told him before he even had to ask.

Second. Always, he was after the club's darling prince. Yet Freed realized, that was fine. Laxus was not a stripper at heart. This was a job, not an enjoyment. He was good because he had to be to get what he wanted: clients to beat so he could get out his sadistic tendencies.

"I saw your fencing match last week. Was that Thor in the crowd?"

Freed said nothing and only sipped his chartreuse. Laxus had come to the fencing tournament, and it was just bad luck that the camera had shown a closeup of his face, watching the match with those intense blue eyes and the unique scar running down his face. Luckily, despite the fact that Bob had played it on the club's television screens, no one yet had mentioned it. He doubted if anyone was even in the club at that time of the day. Only Bob. Bob seemed to always be there, and he liked to watch his regular customer on the television.

"I won't tell," Bob said quietly. "Still, if you two are together in public … Jellal is strict about these things."

"Jellal can go to hell," Freed grumbled.

Bob sighed as he watched Freed's gaze. "You requested Thor again. I don't think you really _need_ to do that."

"I like to," Freed said. "It's nice, having him dance for me."

"Doesn't he dance for you in private?"

Freed again said nothing. He knew the club had rules about how close the dancers could get with their customers.

"Every time you come here now, you're requesting him."

"It's managing to keep his job," Freed pointed out.

"True, but you're practically his exclusive client."

Exclusive! Freed liked the sound of that.

"And now you're out with him in public. If Jellal gets a hint that Thor is becoming exclusive to a customer, he'll fire Thor."

"_Thor_ will keep dancing; it doesn't matter which club."

"Isn't that … troubling for you? Seeing him with other men?"

Freed said nothing and took another silent sip. He knew it was Laxus' job, he knew those men meant nothing to Laxus, but still…

Sometimes…

Bob glanced around to make sure no one could hear, and he dropped his voice to a confidential whisper. "Now, I like that guy, he's talented, but … why don't you tell him to leave all of this, stay with you? You've got money. You could support him."

"Support Thor?" Freed had to laugh at the idea. "A man like him would never agree to someone else supporting him." Freed knew that was just the way Laxus was: stubborn, independent, determined to make it through life by his own strength.

"Most of these dancers aren't in relationships. You and Thor are. You're even going out on dates. You should hold onto him, now that you've caught him."

Freed shook his head with a passive smile. "You can't catch someone like him. Perhaps by chance he'll strike in front of you, land in your lap, but no one can hold onto him forever. In a flash, he's gone, and all that's left is the sound of that electrical presence. A crackle. A rumble. The ominous and fading roll of thunder." He smiled up to Bob with a hint of sadness in his eyes. "You can't catch the thunder."

He looked back down to his pale green drink. Laxus was right. He hated chartreuse and only ordered it to appear sophisticate. In a gulp, he swallowed all of it down and set it aside. Bob moved to the green bottle.

"No," Freed called out. "Let me try … Blue Label, neat, with a water back."

Bob's eyes widened. "That's a hell of an order. You're not into the hard stuff."

"Maybe he's changing me," Freed mused.

Bob poured the drink with the small glass of water to the side. Freed carried both glasses to his usual booth. He watched the show start, Ice Prince wowing and wooing the crowd, stripping in an instant, and finishing up only to leave the stage and go straight to Pinkie, giving him a too-affectionate dance on the lap. Freed smiled at the two. They appeared to know one another well. He wondered if Ice Prince had done a lot of private sessions for that pink-haired kid. He had heard for himself that they knew one another's real names. Were they as close as he was to the man this club knew as _Thor_? Were they also dating secretly?

The change of lights from blue to yellow took his mind off of those two. They could have their fun. Pinkie always missed Thor's dance, too distracted by his frosty stripper. That was one less pair of eyes on the burly man and his dance of seduction.

Freed realized, he had every right to be jealous. The crowd hooted and groaned at various times of Thor's stripping. He could still hammer at their groins. Instead, Freed watched his dancer and the men who ogled him with a sense of smugness. They knew only the thunder, something ephemeral. Once the song was over, like a storm cloud passing, the thunder was gone, faded from the stage and from the minds of the men in this club, who were eager for the next dancer.

Not Freed. That tempestuous dance meant a new storm was brewing, and the lightning was coming soon.

He was there in a flash, golden spiky hair, eyes that looked orange in the light of the club, a devious smile as he approached Freed, straddled him, and gazed down hard. This time, his scarred eyes glanced at the glass.

"Not your usual," he commented.

"I … I thought … maybe you could show me how to drink scotch."

Laxus chuckled. "I'm supposed to dance on your lap, bitch."

"I do believe I'm the one who purchased a full song and two-way contact."

That sly gleam in the green-haired man's eyes always amused Laxus. It made Freed different from the assholes who normally bought Laxus' time, wishing to be purely dominated. He picked up the tumbler of scotch and took a drink. Then, holding the liquid in his mouth, he kissed Freed. The liquid passed from Laxus' mouth into the waiting one. He felt Freed tense up at the burning feel of the whiskey, but Laxus trapped the swordsman's wrists down. Freed was forced to swallow, and that sense of helplessness made him stiffen up erect already.

"Very good," Laxus praised.

Freed felt like he could melt from those approving words.

"Now, chase it with water. Open your mouth."

Freed opened, tilting his head up, and Laxus poured water onto his tongue. A little dribbled down Freed's chin, slithering over his neck to his shirt.

"Bad boy. You're messy," Laxus said with a sadistic smirk. He grabbed Freed's wrists and pinned them above his head against the booth. "You get punished."

His lap dance finally began, torturing Freed's groin, arousing him with sparks of electric thrills. Freed groaned and panted as the music and the movements pounded into him. He gazed up helplessly into those eyes he now knew were blue.

"Tonight?" he asked softly.

Laxus smiled gently and touched Freed's cheek, something fleeting, unseen by the crowd, but enough to show Freed that this thunder god honestly cared for a mere mortal like him. "Sure," Laxus said in a low, gravelly whisper. "Don't get drunk on the scotch."

"Not a chance," Freed chuckled. He would rather waste the alcohol than waste a night with his thunder god. "Oh God, like that," he moaned, arching back into the booth as his hips thrust on their own.

Laxus released his bound wrists. "Grab my ass, bitch. Show me how you like to feel it."

He blushed in humiliation, but he reached around those leather pants to pull Laxus close against him. Laxus stopped moving, forcing Freed to shift his butt, pulling and moving Laxus to where he wanted to feel it. He liked to feel that thick length slide up over him, especially as he felt Laxus slowly hardening. Then he liked a little side-to-side, like two swords battling one another. Then a tight thrust up against him. It was embarrassing to be this assertive in the middle of the strip club, with others watching them, and that shamed feeling made his heart race.

"The song's too fast," Laxus complained.

"Would you rather have Barry White?" Freed teased.

"Considering you only bought one song, I'd rather have _In A Gadda Da Vida_."

"That would be an awesome song to make out to."

"I could probably make you come twice before the drum solo finishes," Laxus teased.

"Nnngh, probably could. Sh-shit!"

Just when Freed thought he could not take more, Laxus backed off. He was in tune with his swordsman now. They had done this many times, and Laxus was good at judging how much Freed could withstand.

"You're still too much," Freed groaned, knowing his issue meant these dances always were brief.

"You're getting better. Maybe you're used to me already," he teased with a sarcastic smile.

"A thousand dances couldn't make me used to you," Freed smiled in adoration. "I just might have to buy another dance tonight."

"Oh?" Laxus chuckled. "Feeling that generous."

"Jealous," he corrected. "There's a man to the side who has been staring at you this whole time."

Laxus glanced over briefly. "Damn. A client," he explained. "He probably wants me to beat the shit out of him again."

"Do you … _need_ that?" Freed asked hesitantly.

Laxus' brow wrinkled. "Who knows?" he muttered.

Freed sighed and looked aside with a pinched forehead. This was just part of being with the thunder god. Everyone saw the brilliant flash of lightning, and he could not stop that dangerous roll of thunder from rumbling over the landscape. "Deal with him first. Meet me tomorrow. You're off work, right? We could spend the day together."

"Hey now! You asked first. That bastard can wait."

"That old man probably doesn't have much free time to come here. If you need it, I'd rather you get the worst of it out of your system first."

Laxus barked a laugh. "Why? So I can be gentle with you?"

Freed felt his face flush and dropped his head. "I don't know if I'd want _gentle_."

Laxus softly touched his cheek again. "We could try it."

His eyes swung up in shock. "Wh-what?"

"We could try _gentle_. Try _more_."

"M-more?" he gasped. "You mean…"

Was Laxus offering … _that_? Actual sex? Not just bondage and toys and blow jobs, but actually … doing … _that_?

The blond gave a mild shrug, but by the way his jaw tensed and relaxed in a slight tick, Freed knew Laxus felt nervous about taking this huge step. "It's an offer. Would you wanna?"

"Yes!" he cried out eagerly.

"Easy there," Laxus smiled, petting down the green hair. "For our first time, I don't want some random hotel. I want a place where you'll always remember it."

"Your flat…"

"Your dorm," Laxus said at the precise same time.

"W-w-wait! My dorm?" Freed shouted.

"Shh," he hushed with a stern look. They could not let others in the club know about this. "If we do it, I want it to be in your own bed."

"But it's a college dormitory, La- … uh, Thor. Dorms are _not_ the most private locations. The walls are paper thin. I can hear my upstairs neighbor taking a leak!"

"Oh really?" Laxus chuckled slyly. "Even better." He scratched a fingernail across Freed's lip. "A building full of your frat buddies, and all of them will get to listen in as I break that virgin ass of yours in your own goddamn bed!"

Freed jolted and reached down, really feeling like he might come from just the thought of how erotic and humiliating that would be. As curious as he was about what sort of place Laxus lived in, maybe it was really a crummy apartment in a dangerous neighborhood. The dorm was safe, people in it were generally non-intrusive, and it really would be fun to kick Loke out for a change.

"I'll probably be late with this bastard," Laxus said, using his eyes to point over to the old man staring at them. "He does things slowly, tends to take until morning before he finally…"

"I told you before, _never_ tell me about your clients."

Laxus froze at the angered snap and the jealousy in those normally fawning eyes. "Sorry," he conceded. "Just sayin', don't call me in the morning. I'll probably sleep in past noon. Chase that roommate of yours out before five o'clock." Then he climbed off Freed's lap as the song ended. "I'll see you then, Greenie. Try not to jizz as you think about it. Oh, and don't fap tonight. I want you built up for tomorrow."

"Shit," he cringed. He was so hard, he had been prepared to rush off to the restrooms to rub one out.

"Don't!" Laxus said with a final order. Then he turned and walked away backstage.

Freed was left with his mouth hanging open and his dick throbbing. He rubbed out his head and took another drink of the scotch, trying to calm himself down.

As Lyon began to dance, Freed stood, took his drink, and left the seating area. He walked back to the bar, away from the hooting oglers and pounding music. He sat in front of Bob, numbed and staring at the glass of whiskey.

Blue Label. Blue like Laxus' eyes. Blue eyes no one in this club saw, not with the lights that turned those eyes predatory orange. It was a blue that only Freed saw.

Freed stared at the golden drink. Gold like lightning, like blond hair. Yellow hair, blue eyes. It was a strong, hard drink, much like that tattooed body. As he sipped the drink, it burned, tingled, electrified like lightning. Yet as he chased it with the water, the flavor suddenly burst open, the harshness soothed away, and a truly wonderful experience tingled on his tongue, complex, powerful, overwhelming him.

No wonder Laxus liked this drink.

"Something wrong?" Bob asked in concern.

Freed laughed to himself as he held the scotch whiskey at eye level and swirled it. "Bob, I may have just managed to catch the thunder."

**Next Chapter: First and Only**

* * *

_A/N: This chapter mentions "In A Gadda Da Vida" by Iron Butterfly, famous for being a 17-minute song. It features a 2 1/2 minute drum solo that lasts up to the 9th minute of the song. So Laxus teases that he could get Freed off twice in 9 minutes. Considering that, in this story, Freed has issues with premature ejaculation, he probably really could. Oh, for legal reasons, I have to say "I do not own this song or make money off of it, blah blah."_


	14. First and Only

Chapter 14

**First and Only**

"Loke," Freed griped, "I really do need you to leave."

"And I said I wanna meet your boyfriend," the ginger roommate insisted. "You meet most of my girlfriends."

"Never by choice," Freed grumbled.

Loke leaned back in his bed with a smirk. "So, are you two gonna _do it_?"

Freed blushed brightly. That had been the plan. Just that morning, he had called Laxus, warning him again that a university dormitory was _not_ the most private location. Laxus seemed even more insistent as he heard the panic in Freed's voice.

Loke sighed when he saw the red face. "Just keep your jizz to your side of the room, got it?"

Freed swirled around at him. "Like you're one to talk!"

There was a thumping knock, and Freed squeaked. Loke leaped out of the bed with the grace of a wild cat, and before Freed could protest, he opened the door…

… and looked way up.

"Tall," Loke muttered.

Crystalline eyes glared down. "You must be the roomie."

"Loke," the ginger grinned, thrusting a hand out. "I wanted to see who got my roomie all smitten." He glanced back to Freed. "Are you sure he's okay? He looks like he needs a rabies shot."

"Out!" Freed shouted.

Loke looked up to Laxus again. "Freed's a good friend. Don't you dare hurt him, got it? Now, I'll leave you two. Beer's in the fridge, extra condoms are in my top drawer, in case you need one for a second go."

"Shoo! Shoo!" Freed snapped.

"I'm not a cat, sheesh." Loke yanked on a coat with a fur-lined hood. "Two A.M. when the bars close, Freed. He's gone or you're both asleep. No boinking each other while I'm sleeping, either." With a wave, he left.

"Well, ain't he just a load of fucking sunshine," Laxus grumbled.

"At least you've met now," Freed sighed. "I'm sorry, I've been trying to shove him out for an hour."

"It's fine. He's not drop-dead handsome, though."

"Huh? Oh! Well, he's not bad looking," Freed said in Loke's defense, but Laxus glared down. "But he's not gay, so … totally not interested. I don't even fantasize over guys who aren't gay or bi."

Laxus glanced around the dorm room. It was smaller than he imagined, even smaller than his apartment. He wondered how two college boys could live in such confined quarters.

"I figured a spoiled rich boy like you would be used to something more … spacious," he muttered.

"Well, it took a lot of adjusting when I first moved in," Freed admitted. "That's Loke's side. Don't touch his stuff. He's really good at giving me my privacy, so I wouldn't want to be a bad roommate in return."

"Not interested in his crap," Laxus muttered. "Nice computer. That's the latest, right? I've only seen TV commercials about it."

"Yeah, um … so, I got supplies. Ah, here!" He pulled a box out from under his bed. Inside was a collection of things they had bought together, included the electro-stim butt plug from their first night. "Uh, lube, condoms … I don't know what else you'd want. How did you want to…?"

"Don't question it," Laxus warned him. "We'll warm up to it. I want to be here with you first." He walked up to Freed and held his cheek. "I want to make this feel natural. In a hotel, it's a fantasy, not part of the real world. Here, in the bed where you sleep every night, it'll be real for you. It'll be more special. You'll remember it every night before falling asleep."

"I'd remember anyway," Freed sighed, cradling his face down into Laxus' large, warm hand.

Laxus leaned over and kissed him. He was partly hoping that Freed's low moans would affect him like they always did, but Laxus really was nervous about this. That fear was making it a challenge to get aroused.

"So, how's school?" he asked, stepping away and looking around some more. He needed to calm himself.

"Uh, it's good," Freed said awkwardly.

He put the box of supplies away, leaving out only the lube and a condom to sit on his nightstand. Why was Laxus putting this off? The blond walked over to Freed's desk, and he began to drum his fingers nervously. Freed watched, surprised to see agitation in the usually implacable man.

"I'm passing all of my classes," he said, hoping that if he kept talking maybe Laxus would feel more at ease. "Midterms are coming up for the fall semester. I've been studying, mostly."

"That's good," Laxus said. He looked down at the books piled on the desk. _Economic Aspects and Ethics of Business._ Sounded boring as hell. His eyes drifted over the desk and eventually landed on a framed photograph sitting on the edge. "Is this your family?"

"Yep! My parents, me, the tall one with his tongue out is Bickslow, and that's my sister, Evergreen."

"You guys look like a normal family."

"I think we mostly are, when my parents aren't being assholes."

He glanced aside, barely looking at the photo, and sought out the next thing he could talk about.

Freed twisted his hands together. "So … um … you mentioned once that you lived with your grandfather while growing up. Is he still alive?"

"Somehow he manages to keep kicking."

"That's good. I've lost all of my grandparents, Mother's side to a car accident before I was born, Dad's side … well, it made the news," he said wryly. "She offed him for the money, got caught, killed herself before police could take her."

"Damn!" Laxus exclaimed. "Your family's as fucked up as mine."

"My parents are cool. They kinda do the whole rich-person thing, though: parties, charity balls, always flying around the world for conventions in their fields."

"What do they do?" Laxus asked.

* * *

They spent ten minutes talking about Freed's family while Laxus helped himself to a beer to calm his nerves. Freed told him stories about his childhood, especially the trouble he got into with his two siblings.

"And so, there we were," Freed laughed, "Evergreen pretending she's Tinkerbell and swinging from the chandeliers with fairy wings on her back, I was Peter Pan brandishing a sword—a real one I pulled off the wall, mind you—while Bickslow suddenly went sliding down the staircase on a serving platter with his arms ahead like he's the tic-toc crocodile, screaming at the top of his lungs, '_Baaaabies!_' He went skidding right past the buffet table and crashed into the cake. It went splattering everywhere, and he broke his arm. We totally ruined their dinner party, but it was the craziest thing anyone had ever seen." He laughed, and Laxus smiled as he tried to imagine it.

"You three must have been an unholy terror on your parents."

"Probably," he admitted with a sheepish shrug.

"It's cute." Laxus guzzled back the last of his beer and set the bottle aside. "You had a fun childhood. I'm envious."

"Oh! Uh, sorry."

"No." Laxus leaned in close. "I can lose myself in thoughts of your past." He gave Freed a kiss. "And I keep dreaming of our future." He kissed him harder, threading his fingers through the long, green hair and giving it an erotic pull. "But what I want," he said, and he slowly pressed Freed backwards, "is right now in the present."

"Laxus," Freed said in awe.

"Sorry if I was nervous."

"I was, too."

"Better now?"

Freed nodded.

"Good. Now … make me hard."

He kissed him fiercely and pressed his body against Freed. The bed was narrow, but Laxus stayed right above him, feeling the pale skin and shifting to get limbs sorted out. Freed spread both legs around Laxus' body, leaving himself wide open to him.

"Nnngh! Laxus," Freed suddenly groaned as the thunder god brushed up against his groin.

"Oh?" Laxus smirked. "You're just raring to go, aren't you, you little slut?" He let his groin rub up against the arousal. "You're totally rock hard." Laxus thrust up against him again, and a long, drawling moan shivered out. "Damn, you really do something to me."

Laxus threw his shirt off, and Freed scrambled out of his clothes. They were breathing hard already, nervous with the anticipation of what they were about to do.

"Gentle the first time," Laxus said softly. "I don't want it to hurt … yet."

Freed chuckled at the threat at the end.

"Besides…" Laxus leaned over and whispered hotly into his ear while his fingers toyed with Freed's nipples. "If you're too loud, someone will hear you." He suddenly pinched hard.

Freed cried out and arched up, trembling at the touch.

"There are people all around this dormitory," Laxus teased sensually. "Do you want them to hear your sexy voice?"

"Nnngh … n-no," he whimpered.

"That's why I'll be gentle." Laxus leaned over and lapped at the stiffening nipple, right over where he pinched. "Gentle, so you had better be quiet."

"Y-yes, master."

"No!" Laxus loomed up instantly. "No master and slave here. Not in the real world. In the club, or in a hotel, fine, but not here." He leaned over and kissed Freed. "Here, you're not my slave." His mouth worked down his neck. "I don't want to fuck a slave. I want to make love to my boyfriend. Got it?"

"Y-yeah," Freed gasped. He suddenly felt pain on the side of his neck. "Ahhh!" The love bite was high up. There would be no way to cover it. Laxus was marking him for the whole world to see.

"Did you prepare yourself beforehand?"

"Yes, how you taught me."

"Good." Laxus licked his finger and lowered it to Freed's hole. "Keep quiet," he whispered, and he nudged the finger in.

Freed's mouth tightened, and his body arched up at the feel.

"You're so smooth inside." Laxus kissed Freed's chest and began to move down lower. "So smooth and tight."

Freed heard a rowdy group of college boys moving down the hall. He covered his mouth with both hands, trying to mute the whimpers. Of course, if anyone heard just him, they would assume he merely had a hot night with some girl. Still, it was humiliating, having sex in a place where his classmates could overhear him.

"Such restraint," Laxus chuckled. He suddenly dived down and swallowed Freed's arousal, pounding it to the back of his throat hard and fast.

Freed arched up with a loud cry. "Oh God, your mouth!"

Outside, he heard one guy laughing. "She must be a pro. Damn lucky guy!"

Laxus pulled back and gazed down. Freed looked utterly mortified, and that expression was sweet to the sadist. "Noisy bitch," he whispered playfully. "I'll have to silence you." He pulled back off of Freed's body. "Stand!"

Shaking, Freed unsteadily rose to his feet.

"Undo my pants," he ordered.

His hands were trembling, but he unthreaded the belt, lowered the zipper, and tugged the pants down to Laxus' ankles. He stepped out of them and sat on the bed.

"Kneel."

Freed practically collapsed to his knees before his thunder god. Laxus spread his legs and stroked up his arousal with a sly gleam in his eyes.

"Lick it, you cocksucker."

Freed hesitantly leaned forward. He realized, he forgot to lock the door. If someone burst in now, it would be completely obvious: two naked men, one sucking off the other. Still, he lapped up the shaft, twirled his tongue about, and lowered down, taking Laxus into his mouth.

"Yes, like that," Laxus whispered, stroking the green hair. "Oh God, you're so good. You get me so aroused, you and your slutty mouth."

Freed groaned as he sucked more, bobbing up and down.

"You're the only person in the world who does this to me," Laxus told him. "No one else. I only want or need you, Freed. I … need you. So much. Fuck you, but you made me addicted."

Freed smiled around the cock. Only him! All those clients, but none of them mattered to Laxus. They were contracts, customers, holding no emotional attachment to him. Only him!

"Shit, I need you!" He yanked Freed's head up, making his mouth pop off. "Now! Lie down."

Freed obediently laid on the bed and gazed up. Laxus reached over to the condom.

"You don't need that," Freed said quickly. "If … if you don't want to, that is."

Laxus looked down in shock. "But…"

"You're tested all the time by the club, right?" he reasoned. "You're careful with clients, and we're both virgins. If you want … y-you don't need to use it. Um, only if you want, though. If you'd rather use it, that's fine, too."

Laxus' eyes softened. "Is that what you want?"

Freed bit his lip and looked aside bashfully. He nodded as his face turned red.

Laxus set the condom packet back down. "It'll be a messy cleanup."

"That's fine," he whispered. "At least the first time, I want to feel you. Just you."

Laxus stroked back the green hair. "If that's what you want. Like this, or dog style?"

"Facing you," Freed requested. "I … wanna watch your face."

"You're always a romantic," Laxus sighed. "Hold on. Don't you dare move." He climbed off the bed, walked over to the desk, and woke up Freed's computer. "Password?"

"Uh … _Raijinshuu_."

"What the hell?"

"Japanese."

"Your safe word is French and your computer's password is Japanese? Are you aiming for a job with the fucking United Nations?" He typed the word in, with Freed spelling it. Laxus quickly opened up iTunes and smiled. "Awesome, you have it." He clicked on a song, and Freed heard an organ starting up. Laxus cranked the volume up.

"Oh God," Freed laughed.

Laxus turned around as drums and rocking guitars kicked in, and he began a small dance. As the lyrics began to play, he sang along to them.

"In a gadda da vida, honey. Don't you know that I love you? In a gadda da vida, baby. Don't you know that I'll always be true?"

Freed was laughing at the dance and gruff singing. Getting serenaded by _In A Gadda Da Vida_ would probably top his list of silliest things to do during sex.

"Twice before the drum solo, right?" Laxus smirked.

"No." Freed gazed up at him adoringly. "Put it on repeat. Make it last until the song plays twice."

"That's over half an hour."

"I want it to last that long," he whispered.

"Then … one second."

Laxus went back and clicked a button to put the song on repeat. Then he went back and pounced on the bed. He grinned ferally and stroked back Freed's hair. He leaned over, kissed him firmly, and smiled.

"Gentle," he assured. "Half an hour."

"Thirty-four minutes," Freed corrected. "It's a seventeen minute song."

"Now you're being a brat." Laxus had to chuckle, though. The longer it lasted, the better. He took the bottle of lube and drizzled it copiously onto his arousal. "Ready?"

He nodded breathlessly.

"Do you need more stretching?"

"Just do it, please," Freed shuddered. They were really about to do this, and his heart was racing with fear and desire.

"Knees up."

Freed pulled his knees to his chest, exposing himself.

"Oh, won't you come with me," Laxus whispered, while Doug Ingle sang the same line. "And take my hand," he sang gently while the song rocked out the lyrics. He threaded his fingers into Freed's. He gazed down with worry and tenderness. "Oh, won't you come with me, and walk this land? Please take my hand."

"Seriously, stop singing," Freed chuckled.

"Hey, I'm tryin' to be romantic here."

"Be Laxus," Freed encouraged. "That's who I love."

Laxus' mouth dropped. "Say that again."

"I haven't yet, have I?"

"No, you haven't."

Freed caressed Laxus' cheek. "I love you."

Tears gathered in his eyes, and suddenly Laxus dived down to kiss him, hiding his overwhelmed face. His mouth stayed right over Freed's as he shifted his hips forward, slowly pressing in.

"Mmh … _mmmnnngh!_" Freed's hands clenched in pain, but Laxus' large fingers were there to accept the struggle. Freed felt that thick arousal opening him, slowly, patiently. Laxus refused to uncover his mouth, muting the cries. Freed trembled. He was used to the butt plug they had used, but this was wider. There was no divot that allowed him to shrink back and relax. Instead, as Laxus pressed in, it only got thicker.

"Wait, wait," he cried out.

Laxus froze. He felt like he was barely in, but he could feel those lithe hands trembling. "I'm sorry," he whispered, stroking back the green hair. "A big oaf like me as your first is probably not best."

"It's fine," Freed insisted. "Just … need to get used to it. Kiss me."

Laxus kissed his lips, his cheeks, and licked away the tears dripping from his eyes. He kissed his forehead, his hair, his ears, and back to his lips. He wanted to kiss him everywhere, if it would ease this initial pain.

"Freed?"

"A moment," he said, breathing too regularly as he tried to relax.

Out in the hallway, they heard a shout. "Awesome song, dude!"

Freed jolted. Shit, there were people _all around him_! "Uh, thanks," he yelled back awkwardly.

Laxus chuckled. "That's just fucking hilarious."

"What?"

"Your face. Shit, you're a comical guy." He leaned down until their noses touched. "How about we give them a better song?" He pressed more into Freed's ass, and the smaller man moaned out loudly.

Outside the door, they heard the same guy laughing. "So _that's_ why the music is so loud. Lucky bastard."

"Yeah." Laxus' eyes glinted down to Freed with sadistic satisfaction. "Lucky bastard."

"Laxus," Freed whispered. "More."

He eased in deeper, deeper, and it was like Freed was just sucking him in now. The soft mewls under him drove him on as he gritted his teeth and pressed until he was flush up against him.

"Holy shit, that feels amazing," Laxus exclaimed softly.

"Do you … like it?" Freed asked, sweaty already.

Laxus stroked his cheek. "It's you. Of course I like it."

"I'm serious."

"So am I. You're so tight, I really don't think I can last thirty minutes. Fuck, I feel like I'd be lucky to last through the drum solo."

"Try," Freed pleaded. "Try to make it last."

Laxus was shocked, but then he chuckled with a tender smile. "Seriously, how can I resist you when you beg like that?"

He pulled back and slowly pressed in again. There was still a little pain in Freed's face, but nowhere near as bad. Then back out, and the third time thrusting in, Freed's mouth gaped with pure pleasure.

"Oh God!"

"You are seriously loud for a college dorm room."

"I don't even care anymore," he shouted.

"Heh! Fine."

Laxus thrust hard, and Freed trembled with an echoing shout.

"Okay, you are seriously loud. If some fucker knocks on that door and demands to be let in to see why you're screaming, I might kill a bitch for interrupting me."

"No! God, don't stop," he shouted even louder.

That was definitely unnaturally loud. "Freed?"

"Fuck my ass harder."

Laxus heard outside the door. "Whoa, totally gay! Must be that homo Senior with the green hair."

He smirked down at Freed. "You brilliant little pervert." Now the whole dorm would know Freed was getting some gay sex. They would definitely leave the two alone.

"They already know about me," he reasoned. "I'll let them know how good it can feel."

"Same as me and the strip club."

"Yeah, but you don't have to live with these assholes making gay jokes about you all the time."

"Fine. Then let them be jealous." Laxus slammed in fully.

"Aaaah!"

Laxus thrust in harder, again and again. "I wanna make them so hard listening to you squeal like a pig in heat…"

"Nngh … ahh … oh God!"

"… that every one of the bastards in this dorm will be fapping to your cries. Make them horny, Freed," he ordered. "Show them how good I make you feel."

"Nnngh! Oh God, so good. So … aaahn!"

"Shit, you really are a slut."

"Laxus!"

"Don't yell my name like that. I doubt these frat boys would know me, but I don't like it."

"Master!"

"Oh fuck," Laxus shuddered. He had figured it would be more romantic to do this as boyfriends, not as slave and master. However, hearing Freed call him that while thrusting into him was too much. His hips slammed in hard, suddenly pounding with urgency.

"Fuck, fuck, no, fuck!"

Despite his shouts, Laxus suddenly came. As he pulsed out, he gritted his teeth and lowered his head in deep shame.

"Laxus?" Freed took the tense face in his hands. "Laxus, turn your head up."

Laxus shuddered and shook his head. "Goddammit, I didn't want to come this soon."

"Please, look at me, master."

Laxus looked into those eyes with sorrow. Suddenly, Freed's lips were on his with eagerness and the arms squeezed him close. The blue eyes widened in surprise. He was afraid Freed might be disappointed that it ended so soon, or tease him for coming for such a silly reason. Instead, he felt Freed trembling in jolts. He realized there was something hot and wet on his stomach, and as he pulled back, he saw that Freed had cum dripping from his cock.

Freed looked exhausted but happy. "I … I never would have made it past the drum solo," he admitted, shuddering wearily.

Laxus laughed and rubbed his nose against Freed's. "You idiot."

They suddenly heard a knock on the side wall. "Is that all? Dude, I was just getting some major fap time with you two."

Freed and Laxus laughed, and both blushed slightly. "Next show is in thirty minutes," Laxus shouted over to the neighbor.

"Damn. It better be worth my blue balls."

"Che! Who the hell is that?" Laxus asked.

"Neighbor named Toby Horhorta. Maybe we should wash up before we do more."

Laxus collapsed on top of him. "Nope. Tired. I'm sleeping like this."

Freed squirmed under the weight. "Laxus, you will seriously suffocate me."

"Don't wanna pull out."

"You sound like a kid."

"Fuck you."

"A potty-mouthed kid."

"Poopy head."

Immediately, they both burst into laughs. Laxus pushed himself up and sleepily gazed down at him.

"We're both idiots, aren't we?"

Freed sighed as he looked up at the eyes that were still a little sorrowful. "It was our first time. It's not that surprising that it didn't last long. Next time, though."

"Next time," Laxus repeated, happy to think that they could share this as often as they wanted now. "Nap first."

"Cleanup first. Your cum will leak out of my ass."

"Mmmm. Let it."

"Not on these sheets, I won't! They're satin."

"You sound like a spoiled rich boy."

"I am one," Freed smirked, "but you're the one spoiling me."

"Damn you for being this romantic." He gave Freed another kiss. "My first." He sensually kissed him again. "My only." He leaned down and kissed longer, letting his tongue play around Freed's mouth.

"Mmmnnh!" Freed moaned happily at the kiss. Suddenly, his eyes widened. Laxus was still inside him, and he was quickly getting hard.

"Are you okay for more?" Laxus asked in a low whisper.

"I might not come again this soon."

"Even better." Laxus pressed in. "Damn, I can feel my cum lubing you up inside. Sorry about your sheets, but they're gonna get fucking messy." He slammed in.

"Aaaah!"

The neighbor shouted through the wall. "Hell of a recovery, bro! Fuck yeah!"

"Damn horny dog," Laxus laughed. He grinned down at Freed. "Let's give him a good encore."

**Next Chapter: You Really Don't Want to Know**

* * *

_A/N: _Again, I don't own "In A Gadda Da Vida" by Iron Butterfly._ Video: **youtu =dot= be/UIVe-rZBcm4**___

___If you want to listen to the audio I made, including how the scene fits in with the song, it's here: __**chirb =dot= it/sPagpf** _


	15. You Really Don't Want to Know

Chapter 15

**You Really Don't Want to Know**

Laxus woke up to see it was dark outside. He glanced over at the clock. Only nine. They had done it not just through two replays of _In A Gadda Da Vida_, but through three, with their third time being the slow, sensual, gentle lovemaking Laxus had initially wanted. Neither came the third time. They made love until they tired out.

Curled up tightly beside him on the narrow bed was Freed, practically smashed against the wall but looking happy to be by Laxus' side. The blond smiled down at his lover and stroked back his hair.

"You really are something, Greenie," he whispered.

Gently, to not disturb Freed too much, Laxus shifted out of the bed and walked to the bathroom. He relieved himself, then pulled on his clothes. He wanted to let Freed rest as much as he needed, especially after such an experience. He sincerely hoped it had not hurt too badly.

"I wonder how you do this to me," he sighed.

Laxus looked around the dorm room some more. How might it have been if he had gone to a university? It was not like his family was too poor to afford tuition. He just never had an interest in education. He supposed it was not too late to learn. Still, what sort of field could he study? He doubted if there was a major in professional sadism. Maybe he could do something with what he had learned as an electrician, before he discovered that he made more money stripping.

Loke's desk was slightly messy, while Freed's was impeccably tidy. Of course, he might have straightened up before Laxus arrived. He wondered how it looked on a normal day. Was he always tidy? Did his desk get all cluttered up with reports and class notes?

He saw the family photo on the desk again. Freed looked younger in the picture, his hair shorter. He had an enigmatic smile. His sister looked like she was trying too hard to be a model, posing with her lips out in a duck face. The brother looked like a total idiot with his tongue lolling and hair spiked out. There was also something about his eyes…

"A family. Siblings. Two parents— Wait." He snatched the frame up to take a closer look. "Is that your father?" Laxus cried out, gawking at the photo.

Freed sleepily opened his eyes. "Huh?"

"The guy in this picture. Is _he_ your father?"

"Uh, yeah. Why?"

Laxus set the frame down so hard, it fell over, hiding the picture. He turned away from the desk with a disturbed face. "Nothing. It's … it's nothing." His hand went up, covering his mouth as his brow tightened. "Shit. Not him. Anyone but him."

"Laxus?" Freed woke up more and raised stiffly, slightly pained. He shifted his hips as he felt the lingering ache. "What is it? Do you know my father?"

His eyes hardened. "Yeah, I do."

"How?"

His lips curled in disgust. "You really don't want to know."

"Why not? How could you…? Oh," Freed whispered, and he collapsed back onto the bed in shock. "Oh … oh God. You don't mean…" He could not bring himself to say it.

"Yeah," Laxus muttered, looking disturbed and angry.

"He's one of your … no way! That's a sick joke. My father, a client of yours? That's not even funny." He waited, hoping Laxus would smile and say sorry for joking about something so inappropriate. Instead, the blond looked nervous. "Laxus? You … you're joking, right? There's no way you could know him. My father … he … he isn't…" Still, Laxus was not denying it. His back was to Freed, and his fists were clenched to keep them from shaking. Something surged up in Freed's stomach, and he choked it back down. "You're wrong!" he screamed.

"I hope to God I'm wrong. Please tell me he has a twin brother, lookalike cousin … something!" he shouted desperately.

"N-no. None that look like him. This can't … you…" He whispered in disbelief, "No way. Could you just be wrong? Turn on the light. Maybe it's too dark."

Laxus sighed, flipped the main lights on, and walked back to the fallen frame. Reluctantly, he picked it up and took a close look at the happy family, the man with brown hair, the lady with her green hair up in a prim bun, and the three children. It was obviously taken some years ago, but although Freed looked different in the photo, the man was exactly the same.

"Dammit. It's definitely him."

"No!" Freed cried out, shivering and struggling not to cry. "My father's not like that. He's not! He's so serious all the time. He runs the company, and he's always there for family dinners. He and my mother go to church every Sunday. Hell, when I came out as being gay, he was furious. There's no way he … no … no way. That's just not him. He's not like that." Freed blinked away tears and shook his head, cringing down as acid churned in his stomach. "Not him. Not Father."

"Justine," Laxus muttered. "That's your surname, right? Mister Justine. Dammit, I never pieced it together."

"How could you not?" Freed shouted. "It's not like we have a common last name."

"I don't give a fuck who I beat up," he yelled back. "Half the time, I don't know their names, don't care. They give me cash, I do what they say, and I go. I barely look at their faces. But … Justine. Shit. Of all the goddamn people."

Furiously, Freed yelled, "You fucked my father?"

"I did _not_ fuck him. I don't fuck clients."

"You … did that … did _stuff_ … on my dad?"

Laxus folded his arms and looked at the door. "I shouldn't have said anything. This is _not _how I wanted this night to end."

"You've seen … _it_. My father's … you and my dad … oh God, I'm gonna be sick." He covered his mouth as acid bubbled up.

Laxus suddenly grabbed his coat and bolted out the door. Freed looked up in shock at the man's rapid departure.

"Laxus!" He forced his stomach back down. "Wait."

He rose from the bed but realized he was naked. Hurriedly, he wrapped a robe around him, then he ran out of the room and down the hall where Laxus was stomping as fast as he could without blatantly running. Just before he reached the elevator, Freed grabbed him.

"Don't you _dare_ run away! We … we should … talk," he said, panting from the shock and racing after Laxus. His ass hurt too badly to be running. "We need to talk about this."

"What's to talk about?" Laxus growled. "Things are gonna be too weird now, right? You're gonna wanna break up with me anyway, so why stick around and punish myself?"

"No one said anything about breaking up," Freed yelled. Someone else from the dormitory walked by and muttered to himself, "_Gaaaaay!_" Freed growled at the student, but he dropped his voice to be polite. "We really do need to talk."

"Why? If I talk, you'll find out the truth and break up with me. If I leave now, you can keep thinking your dad is the perfect father you imagined him to be. You can convince yourself that maybe the man I know is a cousin, or a distant relative. Hell, it might be, for all I know."

"If I don't hear the truth directly from you, I'll never be able to trust my father again. I could never bring it up to him, so I'd be left with doubts, maybe even hatred. I don't want that! I want to know the truth. I … I _need_ to know."

Laxus glared down at him and hissed out a whisper. "His name's Llewellyn, right?" He saw Freed's mouth drop. "I was afraid so. You want the truth? Your father hires me to be his Dom. There. You can hate him, curse me, whatever. Do you really want to know more? Can you even look me in the eye when you realize that I've spanked your father into submission, that I've done to him some of the same things I do to you?"

Freed dropped his head and gulped down a surge in his stomach. "It makes the issue more personal, but … but I already knew you do this sort of thing. I _knew_ that, and I thought I could accept it. Maybe I still can, although it's gonna be hell come Christmas."

Laxus had to snort out a laugh. "Yeah, good thing I realized this now. It would have been awkward as hell if I went to your house for the holidays and met your dad there."

"Laxus," Freed whispered, "I don't want you to leave. I want to talk. Then I'll make my decision."

"Decision?" Laxus asked softly.

"If I can handle this, or if I need to kick you out of my life before we … go any further with this."

His ass hurt, and it reminded him of how sweet their time together had been. The pain smoldered and forged into love, making him not want to give up on this man, even if his mind was having a hard time coming to grips with this revelation.

"I need to know what I'm dealing with," Freed stated. "At the very least, I deserve your honesty, and a dorm hallway is _not_ the best location to be discussing this. Please, come back to the room."

Laxus looked again to the elevator door. Every nerve in him said to bolt now before his heart got broken. However, if there was absolutely any hope of staying with Freed and making this relationship work, he wanted to bet on it.

"Fine, we'll talk."

"Thank you," Freed sighed. He turned and walked back to his room, but he realized already that he could not look Laxus in the eyes. Even while begging him to stay, he could not look right at him, and his stomach still felt nauseous.

They went to the room, and Freed locked the door. He slowly sat on his bed, still aching a bit, and Laxus took the computer desk chair. They sat in silence with a party down the hall thumping away music.

"So … my father," Freed said timidly. "Um, how long has he been a … a … a client?"

"I honestly don't know. Over four years."

Freed gulped hard and cringed. That was a lot longer than he ever imagined. "How often?"

"Once a month. It's a fixed date."

"And … what does he make you do?"

"Let me clear up one thing. No one _makes_ me do anything. They list requests, I pick which ones I'm willing to grant. I'm not forced. I am _nobody's_ sex slave."

"Got it, sorry. So, what does he _request_?"

"Do you really wanna know the details?"

"How about generalizations?" Freed decided, not sure if he really wanted to know graphic depictions of his father's debauchery.

"Restraints, paddling, flogging, he has a thing for wax play."

"Do you … jerk him off?"

"I don't need to."

"What do you mean?"

Laxus folded his arms. "If I tell you, you're green little head is gonna explode."

Freed arched an eyebrow.

Seeing that he still wanted to know, Laxus shrugged. "Your father is a _special case_. I'm not the means to an end. I'm a setup."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Llewellyn is a masochist. Your mother—what's her name again?"

"Mother? Liberty."

"Right, I knew it was a weird name like yours. I feel like shit calling her _your mother_, so I'll use her name. Liberty hasn't got a sadistic bone in her body. _She_ was actually the one who contacted me. I have no fucking clue how she heard about me, but trust me, I was shocked as hell to get propositioned by a woman _for her husband_."

"Mother!" Freed bellowed. "My mother … asked _you_ … to do that for Father?"

"I never asked for details. I honestly don't wanna know the drama bullshit. However, it seems the issue with Llewellyn is one that led to … problems."

"Prob- …" Freed cut off sharply, and his face flinched with a memory. "Those rumors back in high school that Father was having an affair. Us kids never believed it, of course. I mean, it's Father! The guy's too busy for his own family sometimes, let alone having an affair on the side. The rumors never even went anywhere because Mother said she hired a private investigator and found out he was loyal."

"More like he was forced to be loyal _after_ she hired a P.I. to tail him, then struck a deal with him not to hit up fetish clubs if she'd hire a professional to take care of his needs. She was willing to work with him on one condition: Llewellyn's dominant absolutely had to be male. That's where I came in. Llewellyn agreed to the deal, Liberty probably cleaned up any loose ends, no one had to know the truth, their marriage didn't have to crumble."

"So, you go to _my house_?" Freed asked incredulously.

"I get picked up in a car with blacked-out windows. I get that a lot, actually. I'm taken to an underground garage and led through some halls to a playroom."

"Playroom?" Freed asked sharply.

"Like sex play."

"There's _nothing_ like that in my parents' house," he protested.

"Might not be their house. I honestly don't know. I go there, Llewellyn is waiting, and Liberty is usually in the room."

"Mother … watches?" Freed gawked.

"At first, I assumed she was a voyeur and liked that sort of thing. However, it became apparent that she was only there to make sure Llewellyn obeyed their rules. He is allowed only certain things. He can be restrained pretty much in any way he desires—and he's a creative guy—and he can be touched with inanimate objects. However, Liberty is a harridan at making sure I do not physically touch him. To be honest, it's the best setup out of all of my clients. I go, I beat him, I take the money, I leave. He's left aroused as hell, and that's when Liberty takes over. Llewellyn apparently can't get hard unless he's beaten into submission first. I take off, leave them to do whatever the hell they want, and that's it."

Freed stared down in shock. "They've been doing this for over four years?"

"Llewellyn Justine is one of my oldest and most steady clients."

"I was still in high school. You were in my house—_maybe_ my house—when I was still living at home. I never saw you there."

"Of course not! I normally never meet anyone besides my client and maybe one trusted servant. Llewellyn is unique since his wife is in the room, too. Kids? Fuck no! I don't deal with kids. Had a client once who wanted to have his teenage daughter watch. I called off the deal. If they're underage, I'm outta there. I'm a sadist, not a pedophile."

"Out of curiosity: you said it's a fixed date. What day?"

"Second Tuesday of the month."

"What?" Freed yelled. "They said those were charity balls."

"Huh! I always wondered why she insisted on calling me Charity. I thought it was an inside joke."

"The joke was on _us!_" Freed shouted. "Lying to their own kids."

"Oh please! Like they could tell you the truth. What are they even supposed to tell you? Are you going to tell them about you, what sort of things you like? You do realize, if by some miracle I'm ever invited to a family dinner, your parents are going to recognize me in a heartbeat. They'll probably guess what we do together. Would you bring it up? Compare kinks with your father? Debate handcuffs to rope, paddles to belts, sounding to e-stim?"

"Oh fuck," Freed groaned, collapsing his head down into his hands.

"The other option is you pretend we're a happy, normal, totally-not-into-BDSM couple, your parents pretend like we're meeting for the first time, we all lie to one another, and your family sweeps the whole thing under the rug."

"That might be for the best," Freed grumbled. "Is there any way you can maybe _not_ have my father as one of your clients?"

"Yeah, I could drop him. I've dropped many clients. I have no reason to do so, though, and no longer seeing Llewellyn after four years would be way too suspicious. It also wouldn't erase the fact that they know me. I wouldn't drop him, anyway."

"Why the hell not?" Freed screamed. "He's my _father_!"

"He's also one of the best clients I have. He's not a pervert, he has never propositioned me for sex, mostly because he wouldn't dare with his wife in the room, and he pays damn good."

"Laxus," Freed whined.

"You knew I do this," he sharply reminded. "Whether if it's your father, your brother, an uncle, who I hit shouldn't matter. It's not sexually appealing to me. Especially with Llewellyn and Liberty, I know I'm just the warm-up. I'm honestly a bit touched that she spoils him and accommodates him enough to get a professional sadist for him, rather than insisting he not get hit at all, or even worse, divorcing him just because he happens to be a masochist."

Laxus looked aside gruffly. He never, ever, in all the millions of worries he had when it came to him and Freed, thought that maybe Freed knew one of his clients, let alone is own father.

"You beat my father … while … while thinking about how to _kill_ your own father," Freed said softly, and he suddenly screamed again, "Don't you see how fucked up that is to me?"

Laxus just stared at him. He had no clue what he could even say, besides facts. "I hit a lot of people's fathers. They pay me to do it. They call the shots, not me. I agree to what they want, but the thing with being a sadist is you have to stop when they say stop. Otherwise, it's just torture and abuse, and that's illegal. I don't torture. I'll torture the living shit out of my father when the time comes, but these men … I don't torture them. I beat them because they _want_ it. I never do more than what they pay me to do."

"Laxus, this is _not_ helping." Freed buried his face down into his hands as the emotions overflowed and drenched his eyes.

"It's not meant to help. I don't know if I _can_ help you." He put a hand on Freed's shoulder. "I really like you, Freed. I do. But I'm not changing who I am just for you. I hate the sorts of people who change themselves to meet the expectations of others. You knew I did this to rich old men. Your father is in that category. You knew I do this sort of thing, and you said it was okay. If it's not okay, if this isn't going to work, then even if I drop your father as a client, it'll never fully work out between us. You'll always be thinking about your dad, what I do, and hating me for it."

"So is that it?" Freed asked scathingly. "Is this over?" He sniffled and shook his head in disbelief. This was supposed to be a wonderful night. Instead, it was a living nightmare.

Laxus hated seeing the tears gathering on his eyelids. It pained him deep inside, but he knew that giving in was not ever going to make this issue go away. If it was a problem now, it would always be a problem, no matter who his clients were.

"That's your call," Laxus said softly. "I don't hate you for being the son of a man I hit. Do you hate me for being the man who hits your father?"

Freed pulled at his green hair in anguish. "Hell if I know," he whispered. Then he suddenly glared up. "Did you ever jerk my father off?"

"I already told you, no," Laxus said firmly.

"Did he ever … ever … _come_ while you were hitting him?"

"No. Liberty never lets it get that far."

"Oh God, my mother!" Freed groaned, flopping backward on his bed in surrender. "This is seriously the most fucked up thing I have ever learned about my family, and that's saying something. Literally _fucked up_!"

Laxus shouted at him, "I do _not_ fuck clients."

"No, you just prepare him for my mother."

"That's right, I do. I hit him for about half an hour once a month, that way he and Liberty—"

"_I don't want to know!_" Freed screamed.

Laxus leaned back in his chair and scratched his head. Once, early on in this sort of career, his client was sloppy, the wife came home, and she went ballistic. Laxus simply left. He walked out with the client still handcuffed to the bed, plug in his ass, and let the woman rage however she wanted. He was not paid to be a bodyguard to these men. If they were sloppy, he was out of there.

Part of him nagged that this was the same sort of thing. He should walk out, get away from this place, escape before things turned explosive, and never return.

Then he looked at Freed, at the green hair splayed across the bed, love bites on his neck and chest, and those thin limbs taut with muscles shining pale through the robe that had split slightly apart. He heard soft snuffles, and Laxus' heart ached to know that this was so painful to the man he cared for so much, the first man he had ever made love to.

Instead of the instinct to leave a volatile situation, he instead stood up and walked over to the bed. He gently sat down, trying not to disturb the mattress too much. He looked uncertain what to do. His hand raised, but he stared at it, as if that hand had a mind of its own. The hand moved, the fingers rested on Freed's head, and still not fully sure what he was doing, Laxus began to pet Freed's head consolingly.

He had never done something like this before. Even as a child, when he found his mother crying about his father, he never tried to comfort her, because he had no clue how to help. Now, he felt like his body was acting on its own.

"Think of it this way," he said softly. "Your mother loves your father very much. Even I can tell that. She's spoiling him. She loves him enough to put up with the man he is. She's not trying to change him. She goes so far to help him find happiness in their relationship that she brings in professional help. It must be hard on her, knowing she can't do it all herself, knowing she could never fully please him on her own, and accepting that she can't give him what he needs. She admits her weakness, and she's willing to do anything—anything at all—to make him happy. I'm sure she realizes the consequences; I make sure all of my clients do. If it's discovered that they hire a stripper for BDSM play, their social and political life is over." He stroked down the soft hair. "Don't make this harder on your parents. Don't think badly of them. Your mother loves your father very much, and he is lucky as hell to have a woman like her. Frankly, I feel a bit honored that, instead of helping some fat bastard get his kicks behind his wife's back, for the Justines I'm helping a husband and wife stay together and keep being happy in their marriage. That makes them unique, and it makes me damn respectful of your mother. She's a hell of a lady. So don't hate your father for being a masochist, and don't hate your mother for trying to give him what he needs."

"I'll … try," he whispered. "Have you ever kissed my father?"

"No. I don't kiss clients, plus your mother has a no-physical-touching clause in her contract with me. That includes with my lips."

"Have you ever … y'know … stayed around and watched them?"

Laxus sneered. "Oh _God_ no! The most I've seen is them hugging one another."

"So it's … it's really nothing more than a contract to you, huh?"

Laxus gave a shrug. "They're a client. I have many. I have no emotional attachment to any of my clients. Some I like more than others simply because they're polite and not perverted. Your parents are probably my second favorite."

Freed peeked out the side of his eyes and managed to smirk. "Only second?"

Laxus sighed silently in relief to see him smile again. "I've got one client who sends me home with not only the money we agree upon, but a bottle of Blue Label and a voucher for a free dinner at the restaurant his company owns, and I can drink all the booze I want on the ride to his place and the ride back home. He's my favorite. Free food and all-you-can-drink booze: total win! Your parents aren't half bad, though. They pick me up in a limo with an acupressure specialist riding along in the back who does this massage thing on my wrist that makes me totally not sick on the whole ride there. It's a pretty sweet deal."

"Maybe I should learn acupressure for you," Freed teased. "I want to spoil my boyfriend."

Laxus' mouth dropped, shocked to hear him so accepting. "You … you still want to be boyfriends?"

Freed's face looked agonized. "I really don't want to lose you."

Impulsively, Laxus leaned down over Freed and kissed him hard. Lithe hands threaded up Laxus' muscular neck and tickled the back of his blond hair, sending shivers through his spine and straight down to his groin.

"You look like your mother, you know," he said between kisses.

"Are you saying I look feminine?" Freed teased, leaning his chin up as Laxus nibbled down his throat.

"Nope, just the hair and your eyes. She's a nice looking lady, and you've got all the best parts of her. But this?" He stroked where the robe had split open and showed off a penis quickly rising to attention. "This part here? This is all unique. I may have seen lots of cocks, but none as amazing as this. You should be proud of this pecker and let me admire it."

Freed cried out as Laxus stroked down hard.

"And your voice, too. Sexy as fuck. I love hearing all the noises I can get you to make."

"Nnnngh … so good," Freed whimpered, fisting up his sheets already as Laxus stroked him. "Ahhhhn!"

"You're getting wet from just this much. Horny bastard. You can't get enough, can you?" he teased, and Laxus lightly bit Freed's nipple. A sharp cry shuddered out as Freed's spine arched up. "Damn, you're already making me hard again, you sexy little slut."

"Laxus?" Freed moaned, writhing as those broad hands caressed him in all the ways he loved. "Maybe … can we … again?"

"Heh! Do you want another go?"

"I want to know you're mine."

"Only yours," Laxus whispered, kissing Freed as he grew harder. "Only you."

* * *

When Loke came in, the lights were out except for a lamp left on by his bed so he could see. It was the same arrangement he usually had with Freed, a desk lamp left on so he was not blind and fumbling in the dark. In the shadows, he saw that massive blond with Freed curled up on his chest. Loke was not gay, but even he thought it was a sweet scene.

Grinning mischievously, he pulled out his cellphone. He wanted to show Freed how cute he was. He was sure Freed would love a picture to commemorate this night, too. He tilted the lamp just a little to light up the two, made sure the camera flash was off so he would not startle them, and snapped a picture.

"I want a copy," came a deep murmur.

Loke jolted, shocked Laxus was awake, but then he grinned. "I'll send it to your phone in the morning. Is he okay?"

"Amazing," Laxus muttered, and immediately he was back to sleep.

"Lucky guy," Loke said with a smirk, and he silently went to his bed.

**Next Chapter: The Justines**


	16. The Justines

_A/N: Just to clarify, I don't know the names of Freed's parents. The manga doesn't mentioned them. I picked "Liberty" to match the name "Freed," and Llewellyn was randomly chosen while reading "Catching the Thread: Sufism, Dreamwork, &amp; Jungian Psychology" by Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee.  
_

* * *

Chapter 16

**The Justines**

Laxus stood on a street corner, the same spot he always stood at this time on this particular day.

As punctual as a Timex, a limousine pulled up, and the driver stepped out.

"Mister Thor," he greeted, and he opened the car door, allowing Laxus to climb in. Flute music played in the limo, and there was an elderly lady with powder-pink hair in the backseat.

"Nice to see you again, Mister Thor," she greeted. "A drink first, or your arm?"

"Not thirsty, Porlyusica," he grumbled, and he handed his arm over to her, palm up. She began to massage his wrist as the driver took off. Then she reached up and rubbed a spot just behind his ear.

"You're tense," she commented.

"It's been a rough week," he said sullenly.

"Well, try not to inconvenience the Justines."

Laxus said nothing as he rode along in the limo with blacked-out windows.

After a bit of a drive, the car stopped, and the driver opened the door. A butler stood waiting, dressed primly, face gaunt and serious. Silently, he led Laxus through an underground parking garage, into an elevator, and through some halls. Laxus walked behind, but when they came to the door which the butler held open, Laxus hesitated.

_'It means nothing. Freed knows it means nothing. He's fine with this. It's all fine. Just because it's his father, Freed knows it means nothing. He's just a client. It doesn't matter who he is.'_

"Sir?" the butler asked quietly.

Laxus jolted only a little before striding through the door. It shut and locked behind him.

Inside were two people, a husband and wife. The man had brown hair and wore glasses. Laxus had to admit, he saw the similarity between this man and Freed's sister, Evergreen. The woman was thin with flowing green hair. Seriously, how could he have not realized it was the same shade as Freed's hair? He just never really _looked_ at clients, and especially not at Liberty Justine, since she was not a person he worked on. She was just a spectator.

This time, however, Llewellyn was not already naked. Both husband and wife wore nice clothes, something tailor-made and probably a classy brand, although Laxus hardly cared about that sort of thing. They also stood a bit apart from one another.

Liberty spoke with a chime-like voice. "Thor, sorry for making you come all the way here, but we had no clue how to contact you besides returning to that … club." She tried to make it not sound distasteful, she really did. She totally failed. "We regret to inform you that your services are no longer required."

It was the most formal dismissal he had ever received, and Laxus' mouth dropped. "What?"

"I know, you've been very indulgent with our … unique arrangement," she said stiffly. "However, this will no longer be an issue. Llewellyn and I are getting a divorce."

"Divorce?" he asked in shock. Normally, he would have just said "Oh," and demanded some sort of payment for wasting his time. Now, knowing who these two were, he was worried. Freed thought the world of his parents—his reaction to the news about his father showed just how much he thought they were a perfect, happy family. He was going to be devastated.

Llewellyn cleared his throat and explained, "You've been instrumental in keeping us together for the past four years. However, now that our youngest child has gone off to college, it's time for Liberty and I to stop fooling ourselves. Even with this arrangement, it just won't work."

"We do sincerely appreciate your … indulgence," she said, again picking her words carefully. "We will of course pay you for the full amount today, and a severance pay for breaking our contract with you without warning. If there are any … hidden fees … hush money … we will pay that as well."

"I don't snitch on clients," Laxus told her. "You two have been good to me. Want me to promise not to rat on you? Toss in a bottle of Blue Label and we'll call it even."

"Of course," she smiled. "It's nice to know that _some_ men are easy to please."

_Oh, that wasn't bitter or anything! _

"So," Laxus said awkwardly, "I know it's none of my damn business but … why the sudden change? Do you need it more often? Is that it? I'm willing to negotiate."

"That's _partly_ the problem," Llewellyn admitted, eying his wife hesitantly.

Liberty coldly replied to her husband, "I thought if it was a man, you'd behave. Obviously, that was a false assumption." She bristled and looked over to Laxus. "Be honest, Thor: if I hadn't been in this room every time, would you have … _touched_ him?"

Laxus stared at her stoically. "I do what I'm paid to do, ma'am, so long as it's something I agree to do."

"Then you would have?"

"If there's a restriction in the contract I signed—which there is, in this case—then no, I wouldn't. I don't break my contracts."

"You're an honest man." She glared over scathingly to Llewellyn. "Better than my husband." She walked past them. "If you'll excuse me, I must check with the kitchen staff to procure a bottle of Blue Label. Thor, consider your contract still in effect until you leave this house."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, respectfully moving out of her way as she stormed through the entryway. The butler shut the door again on the two men. "Spitfire of a wife you've got there, Mister Justine."

"Frankly, I'm glad it'll soon be _ex-_wife." Llewellyn let out a long sigh. "It's been hell living with her all these years. Do you like cigars?"

"Love 'em," Laxus said, following the man over to a desk. He opened the drawer and pulled out a sterling silver container lined with Cuban cigars. Llewellyn sniffed one, cut the end, lit it, and handed it to Laxus.

"You never asked about how we got into this situation."

"It wasn't my place to question," Laxus admitted. "I normally don't care."

"Smart man," Llewellyn said, puffing on his own cigar. "Getting between a man and his wife is dangerous. You managed with professionalism that surprised both of us, given your young age. Hell, you're not much older than my eldest son."

Laxus froze and looked up sharply.

"This will be hard to break to the children," he sighed regretfully. "It'll be the worst Christmas ever, but there's no point in keeping up the façade." He glanced over. "How about you? Doing anything for the holidays?"

"Not sure," Laxus muttered. He wondered if coming with Freed was a good idea after all. It would be awkward as hell no matter what happened with this rich family.

"You know," Llewellyn said quietly, sounding hesitant, "once the paperwork is finalized, I won't be under Liberty's thumb."

He rubbed his hand up Laxus' arm. The blond gawked at him. It was the first time Llewellyn had ever actually touched him in the four years he had known the Justines.

"Sir," Laxus said stiffly, "Liberty said my contract is still in effect until I leave this house."

"Yes, which says that you are not allowed to physically touch me. She never wrote in that contract that I was not allowed to touch you. I deal with contracts every day, Thor. I know damn well how to manipulate one." His hand stroked over Laxus hair, down the back of his neck, and across the broad shoulders. "I've wanted to touch you for so long. You've been amazing. Simply enthralling. I'm sure you hear this all the time, but … I often fantasize about you. I used to sneak out and go to that club where you dance."

Laxus jolted at that piece of news. "You go to the South Pole Club?"

"I haven't been there in months, not since I once saw my son go into that club. I knew he was gay, but … strippers! I guess he really does take after me," Llewellyn laughed, but Laxus felt his stomach twist. "Tell me, what's the _usual_ frequency of your clients?"

"It varies vastly," Laxus said cautiously, not liking where this was going.

"The most frequent?" he asked eagerly.

"I had one a while back who wanted it weekly."

"That's not enough." Llewellyn's hand went down to Laxus' thigh and rubbed up slowly. "I want you every day, exclusively."

Laxus pushed Llewellyn's hand away with the edge of the cigar, making sure not to touch him but also not to burn him. "I can't do that, sir."

"I'll pay you twice whatever you make at that club, and all of your other clients combined." Llewellyn grinned with a bit of haughtiness. "I'm a very wealthy man. I can match any price. Tell me how much they pay you, and I'll pay double, even triple."

Laxus cringed. "Sir…"

"I'll handle any debts, any legal issues. And money to your family, if that's the trouble."

"I'm in a relationship," Laxus blurted out. "I can't be exclusively yours."

"Well, obviously it's not a _serious_ one if you're still doing this sort of work."

Laxus' eyes glared. "Excuse me?" he sneered quietly.

"I don't mean that badly."

"You're questioning my devotion to the man I love. I don't see how that is anything _but_ an insult."

"Oh, then you _are_ gay? I was never sure, to be honest."

Laxus just glared at him.

"You're truly incredible, Thor. You're the best dominant I have ever had." His hand stroked through the blond hair again, fascinated by the shine. "I have touched myself while thinking about you for the past four years. Once a month wasn't enough. I asked Liberty to increase it, but she only wanted to make love once a month. Frankly, half the time we … _didn't_ after you left. She treated these days as just a burden, a _nuptial requirement_. Forgive me, Thor," he said, bowing his head, "but I sought out someone else. I desperately needed something more. He just wasn't as good as you. Even though he would touch me, even bang me, it wasn't _you_."

"Bang you?" Laxus asked. "I guess that's why Liberty got mad, huh?"

"Yes, she hired a private investigator and caught on … again," he said, rolling his eyes.

Laxus was reminded that he was brought in to save their marriage after Llewellyn had been caught in fetish clubs.

"Thus, the divorce," he said lightly with a guilty but playful shrug.

"I really can't blame her," Laxus sneered.

"Well, what else is a man supposed to do when his wife no longer wants to give him pleasure? She humored me, but I need someone who actually wants it, not just does it because it keeps her husband tamed. I need someone who wants me, wants to dominate me, scold me, humiliate me … and that's just not Liberty."

His fingers touched Laxus' lightning bolt shaped scar, but the blond pulled back before those fingers could stroke down his cheek.

"She's a dear woman, don't get me wrong," he added wholeheartedly. "We had fifteen wonderful years together. This … _need_ … requirement … it began shortly after my youngest was born. I managed to ignore it for a few years, then I tried to ease Liberty into it, but when it became obvious that she had no desire whatsoever to do what I needed, we stopped having sex. I couldn't get hard even if she was in the mood, since she would never do the things I needed to find arousal. Rather than pills or sex therapy, we just decided to abstain, or so we told one another. We slept in separate rooms, which is common enough. Meanwhile, I went to places where I knew I could get what I craved."

His hand raced up Laxus' thigh again. Laxus almost slapped it away, but his contract forbade physical touching. He cringed as those fingers reached his groin and groped. Lots of men in the strip club had felt him there, but this time it was worse. This was Freed's father! It made the touches more disgusting, and Laxus looked aside with sickness, straining to hold himself back from lashing out.

"After ten years, I got sloppy, she grew suspicious, I got caught…" Llewellyn gave a wide shrug. "The rest is my world with you, four years of incredible bliss, a life-shattering shift from wanting women to suddenly desiring a man." His hand stroked the crotch, and his eyebrows drooped in disappointment. "Nothing?"

"It's not easy to get me aroused," Laxus said stolidly, not looking at his face.

"I want to know how. I want to feel it!" His other hand went through Laxus' hair some more. "Your hair is much softer than I imagined. But here…" He stroked persistently through the leather pants. "I want to feel how hard you can get. I want to be the one to make you hard."

Laxus cringed but did not pull back. "Sir."

"Please, Thor," he begged, clinging desperately onto the bulky biceps. "I need someone like you, someone who can really make me aroused. I'll cater to everything you could ever want. Money, cars, a house, or you can live with me, together, so that every night you can dominate me. Will that make you hard?" he asked hopefully. "Are you like me? Can you only get hard when you're punishing me?" Both hands caressed Laxus' cheeks, and he began to lean in, breathing fast with arousal. "God, I want you to punish me."

Laxus yanked his head aside. "Don't you dare kiss me!"

"Of course not. I'll obey anything you say," he smiled with eagerness. "Anything you want of me, or want to deny me. Just tell me what to do," he moaned sensually.

"Stop petting my goddamn hair," he growled.

"Of course." His hand pulled away. "I can be obedient. I can give you anything. I will spoil you to my dying day, and even after I'm gone, you won't want for money." He rubbed his cheek against Laxus' arm. "Think about it. No more dancing. No more perverted clients. Just you and me."

"I told you, I have someone."

"Then leave him. I'll even provide him with funds."

"You mean you'd buy him off," Laxus sneered.

Llewellyn chuckled slyly. "I bet for enough money, he would leave us alone. You'll see how fickle that other person is." He took hold of Laxus' cheek. "He doesn't love you like I do. Four years, Thor! That's how long I've loved you. He could never spoil you like I can." Slowly, he leaned in closer, eyes lowering, lips trembling. "I want to indulge you, like you've indulged me all these years. Please let me … master."

Laxus rose up in a flash and punched Llewellyn across the face, knocking him to the ground. He glared down with hard eyes and seethed, "Don't you ever fucking call me that."

He turned and strode out of the room. Just then, Liberty was coming up with the butler. She saw her husband on the floor holding a bleeding nose.

"What … what's going on here?" she cried out.

"Thor!" Llewellyn called out in misery. "Please, master."

Laxus spun around. "I said _don't_! I said don't kiss me, you tried anyway. I said don't call me master, and you did it anyway! What sort of submissive are you?"

"I'll obey! I will! Please," he cried out, crawling on the floor.

"Fuck you. You say you're in love? You love Thor. _I am not Thor!_" he bellowed. "I have my own life and a man I love. I don't care how much money you give me, you would still be nothing more than a client, and I have never—ever—fucked a client. If you think something as stupid as money could bribe my boyfriend, you obviously have forgotten what _real_ love is truly like." He then looked over to Liberty. "Sorry, ma'am. I broke our contract. I touched him."

"What?" Liberty asked, aghast.

"Yeah, my fist accidentally touched his cheek," he smirked wryly. "Forget your damn severance pay. Just pay for my time here and gimme the booze. I need the booze now," he growled.

"No, take the whole amount. Bas," she said to the butler, and the diligent man whipped out a money clip to count out the cash. "Whatever my idiot husband said, please try to forget it."

"I plan to." He snatched away the wad of money and the box containing the high-end scotch whiskey. He began to walk away, but he suddenly paused and looked back around. "About Christmas … don't tell Freed about the divorce then. He's really looking forward to spending the holiday as a nice _normal_ family."

Liberty gasped, and Llewellyn rose to his feet with a stern glare.

"How do you know that name?" the man asked, none of the whimpering from earlier in his voice.

Laxus saw now the cutthroat businessman that Mister Llewellyn Justine had grown up to become. "I told you, I'm in a serious relationship. It's with a young man by the name of Freed Justine."

Liberty's hand flew up to her mouth. "You … and our son?"

"Did you hurt my boy?" Llewellyn growled.

"I've never hurt him beyond what he wants," Laxus swore. "I treat him gently, far more gently than I've ever treated you or anyone else. He's a good kid, and he's very precious to me."

Liberty looked pale. "My son … and a stripper?"

Laxus looked at her earnestly. "I swear, I didn't know he was your son before I fucked him."

Liberty's eyes began to roll back, and she sank faintly. The butler rushed forward to catch her.

Laxus waved behind his back as he walked away. "No need to escort me; I know the way out. Oh, and don't say anything about _this_ to Freed on Christmas, either. I want him to have a good time while he's at home. If he ends up having a shitty Christmas holiday, I'll beat you, and not in a way to make you aroused. See ya."

He kept walking and entered the elevator alone.

**Next Chapter: Compromises**


	17. Compromises

Chapter 17

**Compromises**

It was a typical college Tuesday at Magnolia University. Freed was busy typing a report while Loke played Skyrim with his headset on to not bother his roommate. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"You get it," Loke said in distraction. "I'm busy fighting a Dragon Priest. Aaaargh, dammit!"

Freed sighed as he rose stiffly from his chair. "How did you get addicted to this game?"

"My friend Natsu gave it to me."

"Natsu? Do I know him?"

"Dunno. Maybe not. Now quiet, I'm fighting."

Freed shrugged and walked forward. Just as the fist had begun to knock again, Freed opened the door to see a giant blond standing on the threshold.

"Laxus!" he cried out.

Laxus collapsed into his arms. "I need you," he whispered wearily.

"What the hell happened?" He then noticed Laxus' knuckles were bruised. "Were you in a fight?"

"Need you," he sighed.

Freed dragged him inside. "Loke, maybe you should go."

"Told you, busy," he said, slamming his control keys hard and focused on the game. "Unless you two start humping each other's asses, I'm not leaving until this damn Dragon Priest is dead."

Laxus collapsed onto the bed, staring straight up. Freed sat beside him and stroked his hair.

"What happened? What can I do?"

"Just touch me," Laxus said weakly. "Just keep touching me."

Freed blushed at the request. "Can it be like this?"

"Yes. My hair, my cheeks, my neck, my shoulders, my arm, and my thigh. Where he touched me, I want you to touch."

"Laxus," Freed whispered in dread. "Who hurt you?"

"Didn't hurt me," he said in a mumble. "I hurt him, though. I have _never_ punched a client. I've come across some sick motherfuckers, but I've never punched one."

Loke suddenly laughed. "I did that when I worked at that lamp store, socked a customer right in the face when he started hitting on me and pinched my butt. What part of 'I'm not gay' don't people get?"

Freed glared over, but he ignored Loke for now.

"Freed…"

He stroked through Laxus' hair with questioning eyes.

"Call me … that."

Freed looked sharply over to Loke. His headphones were on, and he was growling at the game. Still, Freed leaned down into Laxus' ear to whisper, "Master."

Laxus smiled and sighed in relief. "Yours alone. Only you can call me that."

Freed's expression went mournful as he heard the slight shake in Laxus' words. "Loke," he said levelly and firmly. "As soon as it's convenient … leave."

Loke took his eyes off the game for just a moment and saw the stern look in Freed's gaze. "Got it," he nodded. He immediately shut down the game and turned it off. "It's just a game, after all." He yanked his coat on and stepped out. "See ya. Hope everything's okay. Call me if you need me, especially if you need to kick someone's ass." He shut the door firmly behind him.

Laxus chuckled softly. "He really is a good roomie."

Freed's eyes were hard with seriousness. "Laxus, what the hell happened?"

"Got propositioned," he said dismissively. "It happens from time to time, but … but this time … he made me realize something. If it was the other way around and you were the one going off to other men, I'd be insanely jealous. I'd always worry. What if one wanted to take it too far?"

Freed's eyes narrowed. "Is that what happened today?" he shouted. "Did some asshole … _molest_ you?"

"I can take care of myself," Laxus assured him. "That man just made me realize … how can I claim to be in a serious relationship when I'm still working like this?"

Freed cringed slightly, terrified that Laxus was going to break up with him. "People do. You hear stories about strippers that have serious relationships, or they're even married, and … and it's fine, so long as both understand, and … and … I understand!"

Laxus' eyes closed in self-loathing. "I'm more than just a strip dancer. I take clients on the side. I might not feel anything emotionally toward them but … they do." He sneered in disgust. "_They do!_ How can I say I'm in a serious, monogamous, committed relationship when I'm nothing more than a glorified prostitute?"

"You're not!" yelled Freed.

"Do you know what the definition of a prostitute even is?" Laxus shouted back. "You could probably look it up in one of these fancy college books of yours. It's a person who engages in sexual activity for payment. Textbook definition, and that is _precisely_ what I do. I might sugarcoat it by calling them clients and saying I'm a professional dominant and sadist, but what it boils down to is I perform sexual acts on those goddamn rich-as-fuck bastards, I restrain them, I beat their asses, I do all sorts of shit to them, I even jerk some of them off, and they give me a shitload of money in return for a night of kinky pleasure. I'm a fucking _prostitute_. A handsome, brilliant heir to a fortune like you shouldn't have a damn prostitute as a boyfriend."

"No!" Freed cried out. "It's fine with me, really. Whatever you are, whatever you do, I love _you_. I don't care about the rest."

Laxus peered up into Freed's face with sad eyes. "I can't keep doing this to you."

Freed's breathing went erratic. "Can't … keep doing what?" _No, I'm not going to cry! I can't cry! This can't be happening!_

"Everything," Laxus sighed with heavy sadness. "Dancing at the club, taking clients. Everything. This isn't fair to you."

Freed's heart raced in a panic. "I told you, I'm fine with it. Laxus, please—"

"No, you're not," Laxus said with a regretful smile at such stubbornness. "You never liked it. You kept quiet, but I could always tell, you didn't like it."

"No! Laxus—"

"I'm giving them up," he said right over Freed's protests.

Freed jolted up in shock. "Wh-what? Them?" _Did I hear that right? Them? Not me? He's not giving me up? Them who?_

"All the clients. The South Pole Club, too. I called them all up, canceled all contracts. I didn't even bother with a two-week notice. I told Jellal to go fuck himself and that I quit." Those electric blue eyes looked up into Freed's astonished face. "I don't want you to have a stripper and a prostitute as a boyfriend. I don't want to do something that makes you sad. Those bastards will need their Christmas fix without the Thunder God. I don't want to do it anymore. I don't need any of it." He grabbed Freed and squeezed him tightly down into his chest. The green-haired man was still in shock. "This is all I need," Laxus whispered into his ear, "and I don't want to lose you. I don't want you to get so frustrated with my job, you leave me. I don't want you to walk out, or feel like you're second to anyone else. I don't want you to regret having me around. And I never, _ever_ again want some bastard to call me master without my permission, or offer me a fortune to have sex with him, or say I can't be in a truly serious relationship if I still hire myself out as a professional sadist." He seethed in loathing. "No goddamn motherfucking elitist prick will _ever_ tell me that again!"

Hearing this banished Freed's dread, but he felt guilty that Laxus was giving up something just for his sake. "But … you need it," he said softly. "You're a sadist. You … you need … more than I can give you."

"Then not this way. If I really do need to take it that far, it'll be something consensual for both of us, not _clients_ who hire me for a night." Laxus held Freed's cheeks with both of his hands. "I'm never going to do something that makes you sad again."

Freed sputtered, unable to hold back the happiness any longer. "Laxus!"

"Is that okay?" he asked.

"Mmh!" he nodded firmly.

"You never liked it, did you?"

Freed sniffled with joy. "Can't say I did," he admitted through tears.

"Don't ever suffer silently. If I make you suffer at all, I want it to be the type that makes you moan and makes me hard, not the type where you bury your heart and I feel like vomiting with guilt."

"Got it." He wiped clear his eyes. "That client must have really given you hell, huh?"

"Probably one of the biggest shocks of my life," he admitted. "I've hit plenty of clients, but rarely out of anger."

"Well, I'm glad. Sucks for the guy, though. I bet you broke his jaw."

"I might've broken his nose," he admitted in a grumble. "There's one problem. I'm now out of a job."

Freed teased lightly, "Maybe you should take up Mira's suggestion about dancing for the ballet."

"Oh, shut the hell up!" Laxus laughed and began to tickle Freed as punishment. The green-haired man cackled with uncontrollable laughs and fell back onto the bed. Laxus kept tickling him, loving the sound of that laugh and seeing that smile. All the darkness in his heart melted away with this man's blushing cheeks and cackles of laughter.

"I give, I give," Freed cried out, shielding his ribs from those tickling fingers. "Stop! Mercy! Écriture!"

Only then did Laxus stop, and he smiled down at the residual giggles still shaking Freed's chest.

"God, I love you!"

Freed's laugh froze, and he looked up in amazement. It was the first time Laxus had ever directly told him that.

"But I'm serious, I'm out of a job now. I feel like shit for asking this, but … I'll need you to support me for a while, just until I can find work."

"That's fine," Freed insisted, still stunned by the love confession.

"It's hell finding any job in this sucky economy, especially since I don't have a college degree."

"Say that again," Freed said in a total daze.

Laxus arched an eyebrow. "What, that I didn't go to college?"

"Before that."

"You need to support me?"

"No, before."

Laxus arched up an eyebrow. "Huh?"

"You … you said … you love me."

"Well, yeah," he shrugged. "Haven't I said it before?"

Freed shook his head, looking ready to cry in happiness.

"Sure I have," he grinned, and he softly sang. "_In a gadda da vida, honey. Don't you know that I love you?_"

"That doesn't count. It's singing song lyrics."

Laxus stroked through the green hair. "You wanna hear me say it directly, huh?"

He nodded timidly.

Laxus leaned in close and let his lips flutter over that trembling mouth. "_Je t'aime_."

Freed gasped. "French!"

"You like French, right? And Japanese?" He leaned into Freed's ear and softly whispered, "_Aishiteru_."

Freed shuddered at the warm air tickling his skin.

"I'll sing it, I'll shout it, I'll say it in any language you want. I love you." He leaned over and kissed Freed's lips. "I love you," he breathed softly, and kissed him again, letting his lips linger before pulling up with a pop. "But don't expect me to say it too often."

Freed chuckled in happiness and shook his head. He liked the idea that Laxus would only tell him those words when he really felt compelled to confess it.

Laxus collapsed onto the bed, and Freed curled up on his chest. "Can I stay for a bit, or are you busy with homework?"

"The report isn't due until Friday," Freed said in a hum.

"I'm gonna lose my apartment if I can't find a job. I doubt I can crash here."

"No. Students only."

"Figures," he grumbled. "Maybe I should go back to school. Not sure I'd fit in with the Freshman class, though. Not sure if I remember a damn thing from high school, either."

"There's … a club," Freed said softly.

"What, for older students?"

"I mean a job. A … a job at a club. A fetish club. I was browsing Craigslist for jobs for Loke and came across an ad for them. They're looking for someone trained in whipping techniques to work there. It's regulated, and I can be there to watch you. I … m-m-might like … watching you work, seeing you really go all out. At least then, it's in a public area, and … and I can say if it's too much for me."

Laxus stared over in shock. He really did love this man! "Are you sure?"

"You're still going to need it, right? You're a … a sadist. And yeah, I'm a masochist, but what I can handle … it isn't at the level you need."

"I'm willing to give it up. I can adjust."

"You once said that you hate the sorts of people who change themselves to meet the expectations of others. I don't want you to change, but … but I don't like being left out. I want more of a say in who you do this to. And no jerking men off. No physical touching. A whip, though, or a paddle … that's fine. That's not touching them."

Laxus was amazed that this was practically the exact same conditions Freed's mother had laid out while compromising with Llewellyn's need to be dominated. He really was a lot like Liberty. "That'd work perfectly. We'll give it a shot. If you don't like it, you tell me right away."

Freed nodded eagerly.

"I'm serious," Laxus said sternly. "If at any time it's not okay, you let me know. I don't ever want you to feel like I'm betraying your trust." He wondered how painful it must have been for Liberty when she found out her husband had been sneaking out behind her back. "I won't do anything you don't feel comfortable with, and from now on, if I use bondage on anyone other than you, you'll know about it. You can watch, or you can even be my assistant."

Freed jolted up with massive eyes. "As-ass-assistant?"

"That's a horrible word to stutter over, y'know."

"I can't do those sorts of things."

"No, but you'd be something like my nurse. If I want to switch from a flogger to a paddle, I call for Nurse Freed. Maybe I'll force you to dress up in a sexy nurse outfit, humiliate the hell out of you." Laxus began to smirk. "Actually, I like the sound of that. Mini skirt, high heels, parade you around as my sexy nurse and watch you blush in shame."

Freed thought about it too, how horribly embarrassing it would be to dress in women's clothing. "L-Laxus," he whimpered.

"Ya like it?"

"M-maybe."

"Of course you do." He caressed the flushed cheeks. "I'll beat others, but I'll only touch you from now on," he swore. "First … I want you to touch me everywhere _he_ did."

Freed sat up and gazed down at the blond. "Just tell me where, master."

Laxus put a warm hand on the top of the green head. "Everywhere."

Freed's eyes narrowed. "He touched you _everywhere_?"

"No," Laxus chuckled, amused by that jealousy. "I want you to touch every part of me, every single inch of my body: my toes, my knees, my armpits … inside."

Freed's mouth dropped. "In- … inside?"

"Is that okay?"

Freed tried to talk, but his throat would not work.

"Everywhere," Laxus said sensually. "I want to be able to tell anyone else that the only place they can touch me is wherever you haven't, and so I want you to touch me absolutely everywhere. Every fucking place on my body."

Freed nodded in consent. "If it pleases you, master."

Laxus sighed with relieved happiness. "_You_ please me. Only you. From now on," he swore, stroking Freed's cheek. "Only you!"

"But not here."

Laxus jolted at the demand. "Huh?"

"Not here," Freed insisted again. "I … I don't want to hold back. I wanna lose myself in it. I want it to be just us, no one else listening in."

Laxus grinned. "Hotel?"

"There's one near the campus. We can walk there."

"Bring all of your supplies. Everything."

Freed nodded and yanked out the box where he had been collecting goodies.

**Next Chapter: "Everywhere, Everything"**

* * *

_There's a fan art of the love confession drawn by infinite-atmosphere: wildrhov =dot= tumblr =dot= com/post/129384994659/  
_


	18. Everywhere, Everything

Chapter 18

**Everywhere, Everything  
**

Freed and Laxus stepped into a hotel room. Laxus glanced around the room. It was small, cheap, something close to the campus and probably meant for visiting guest speakers or parents of students wanting to visit their children. Laxus doubted that the walls were thick, but he equally doubted that the hotel had more than a dozen people. At least Freed requested a top-floor room. There was even less chance of someone being up here.

"Get yourself ready," he ordered.

Freed made a small gasp, but he nodded. "R-right." He set a satchel down with the things he brought. It was not a lot, but he had the basics, including some suppositories to clean himself inside. He blushed as he took those and scrambled off to the restroom. He rested his hands on the sink and lowered his head to calm himself. Freed wondered if he would ever stop feeling his heart race like this just at the thought of having sex with Laxus. He already felt hard just anticipating it.

He raised his face and looked in the mirror. _'What does Laxus see in me? Why would someone so amazing give up his entire livelihood just for a guy like me?'_

In the main room, Laxus walked over to the window and stared out at the city. He let out a deep breath and watched it fog the icy, wintry window. Outside, the campus spread out like a miniature city of its own, the leaves all gone from the trees, the sky overhead gray and threatening snow, while students rushed to classes, preparing for winter finals. He closed his eyes on the world and focused inward. He needed to psych himself up. He had a hard day, but this was time to let everything go. To let it all fade.

To be the Thunder God again!

"Master?"

He turned around sharply and saw Freed already naked, kneeling on the ground, with his head down in submissive position. It made his heart race just seeing that, with the green hair draping down to the floor.

Laxus closed the curtains, shutting out the world of wintry chill, cram studying, lost jobs, crazy clients, fucked up families, all the shit that was out there in that place called _the real world._ Here in this room was something far more real: him as master, Freed as slave. Fantasy play? Hardly! This was far more real than anything else in his life. These feelings, this desire, the bonds between them, were all _real_. His life as a dancer, as a sadist-for-hire, and the sculpted grounds of the university: _that_ was fake. That was playing a role: the good son, the perfect student, the hardhearted stripper, the professional Dom. Just roles. This connection between him and Freed was more real than any of that.

"Are you ready?" he asked in a low, sensual tone.

That voice shot through Freed and straight down to his groin. "Ah … yes, master."

Laxus walked over to the bag of goodies, searching for something good to use. He felt something strange and pulled it out. In his hands was a collar. He held it by the metal buckle and eyed the black leather dangling down, then he looked sharply over to Freed.

"What's this?"

Freed glanced up and saw it. His face suddenly went pale. Shit! He had toss everything into the bag without looking. That including some things Laxus did not yet know about. "Ah, um, I…" He cringed down and whispered, "I bought it."

"On your own?"

Freed chewed his lower lip. "Is that bad?"

"No," Laxus said quietly in amusement. He looked from the leather strap and then down to Freed again. "You want to be collared, huh?"

"I thought … maybe … sometime."

Laxus walked back over to where Freed was knelt. His green head lowered deeper, not daring even to look at Laxus' shoes. Still, he heard them stop right in front of him, and he crouched down, wondering if he would get punished.

"Do you know what happens when you get collared?"

Freed jolted and opened his eyes, looking up in confusion. "What … happens?"

Laxus' blue eyes sparked with desire. "It's more than just a piece of material wrapped around your neck. It means _a lot_ more than that."

"Y-yeah. It's…" Freed gulped hard and steadily gazed up at him. "…ownership."

"That's right," he whispered gently.

Laxus knelt in front of Freed. Immediately, the green head dropped again, and his breathing quickened. His heart was racing with both fear and need, a deep desire to be accepted and wanted. Laxus glanced between the collar and Freed. His brow was tight, and he nervously licked his lips.

"Does this mean … you want me?" Laxus asked cautiously, and he pointed out, "You bought it yourself."

Freed wanted to scream his answer and tell the whole world. Did he want Laxus? Oh God, yes! Fucking hell, yes! With every fiber of his being, he wanted this man! Instead, a weak wisp of air managed to escape his clenched throat, and a single syllable eked out. "…Yes."

A smile came to Laxus' lips, but he forced it aside. He needed to stay in control. It would not do to show his slave how happy he was, not yet at least. "Head up."

Freed obediently raised his face. He had wondered how Laxus might look. Giddy would not suit him, so when he saw sharp eyes and a delving gaze, it sent a shiver through Freed. Those were eyes that said they wanted to claim a soul, and Freed was willing to give his over to this thunder god.

Laxus held the collar in front of Freed's face, so close that the man's turquoise eyes crossed slightly as he looked at the strip of leather. "If I put this on you, then this collar never goes on another neck. Only your neck, and only I can put it on you."

"I know."

"It's something exclusive."

He gulped and nodded. "I … I know."

"Do you want that?"

Freed's eyes lowered humbly. "Only if—"

"Do you want that?" Laxus asked louder.

Freed moaned faintly at the sheer dominance in that voice. He shivered at being questioned by this god amongst men. How could he _dare_ want something exclusive with a man like Laxus? Yet still … if he could be that greedy…

He looked up firmly and answered clearly, "Yes."

This time, Laxus could not hold back his smile. He glanced aside and laughed slightly as he felt his cheeks growing hot. "I wasn't sure."

Freed's mouth dropped. "Huh?"

"I wanted to buy you one. Damn brat. Beat me to it."

His eyes gleamed. "R-really? You wanted … this?"

"Heh, yeah," Laxus reticently confessed.

Those thick fingers stroked through the long, green hair. Freed relaxed and smiled at the gentle petting. Laxus wanted him! He felt pure happiness at hearing that. Then suddenly, Laxus grabbed Freed's hair and yanked his head back. Lightning flashed in those electric blue eyes.

"Don't ever buy something like this without my permission again."

"N-no! Sorry!" he cried out.

"No, it's okay." Again, the hand petted his hair, but just that little bit had made Freed's heart pound harder with masochistic excitement. "I like that you took some initiative. As expected of _my_ slave."

A moan shivered up out of his lungs. Laxus' slave! His alone! This collar would show his ownership, his claim over Freed's body, heart, and soul. Freed was ready to surrender everything to Laxus, even his freedom. To be a slave, to be wanted, used for pleasure, cherished as a slave by his master! It was all he ever wanted.

Laxus laughed at the emotions playing so clearly over Freed's face. He was so easy to read. Then suddenly he pulled his hand away and raised back to his feet. "Okay, move your hair out of the way. We'll put this on."

Freed eagerly pulled his long hair to the side, but Laxus glared down at him.

"Stand up," he said in annoyance, as if that should have been obvious from the rest of his instructions.

"R-Right…" Freed whispered, ashamed that he did not realize that Laxus would have to stoop to fit the collar on. Of course, the Thunder God should never stoop! He scrambled to his feet.

Laxus slid the collar around Freed's neck and slipped the end through the buckle. It was a high quality collar, from the look of it, although it was simple in design and not custom-made. Still, the leather was soft, the stitching was superb, and knowing Freed, money was not an issue. (_Stupid rich boy! He probably bought the most expensive one in the store!_) The band was narrow, which complemented Freed's thin features, and it came with a small padlock with the key still inside. Likely, Freed had tried it on once, bought it, and never put it on again. Many times, Laxus had thought about getting a collar for Freed, but he was never confident enough that this was something his lover wanted. He could have just asked, but that was awkward.

To Laxus, collaring came in two forms: decorative and meaningful. Some of his clients liked to wear a collar for any number of reasons. Some had collars that forced their chin up to look at their master, or with sharp edges that would cause pain if they moved too much. Others just saw the collar as part of the whole BDSM scene, a necessity to get into their alter-ego. A few had liked pet play, and the collar was just part of that. Laxus rarely _put_ collars on. If they wanted to wear one, they could put it on themselves. If they wanted the thrill of having it placed on, he charged them, because it was so repulsive, listening to them whimper as he wrapped it around their neck. Because of the charge, most did it themselves. Many already had the collar, and any other items like cock rings or ball gags, already on when Laxus arrived so they would not waste his precious—and expensive—time.

Such decorative reasons for collaring were plain to Laxus. If they wanted to decorate themselves, they could wrap their fucking cock in Christmas wrapping for all he cared. (One client had done just that!)

What mattered far more was a collar that had meaning. A collar could be just a piece of material, or it could mean something very deep between a slave and master. Ownership! It was a deeper ownership than just calling one another boyfriends. He never collared a client if he realized they held a deeper meaning to it.

As his fingers caressed the pale throat, he saw Freed shiver. Obviously, this collar had that sort of deep meaning to him. Laxus briefly wondered what it was like, to have a collar put on by the man you love. As Freed's eyes gazed up, he saw curiosity in them and realized Freed was thinking the same thing: What was it like to collar someone you love? For Laxus, the feeling was … indescribable! Shivers kept running down his spine, and although he remained stoic on the outside, inside his heart was racing.

"Is this a good fit?"

Freed moved his head around. "Mm-hmm."

Laxus smirked sadistically. "How about here?" He yanked the collar tighter until Freed began to choke slightly. Seeing that discomfort amused Laxus.

"It-It's a little tight."

"Can you breathe?"

Freed felt like he was choking, but air was still passing through. "Y-yeah."

Laxus' fingers stroked along the pinched skin, watching Freed's Adam's apple struggling just to swallow some saliva. His face was turning red from the tightness. Oh, how he would love to truly torture his little slave some day! "Does it hurt?" he asked, utterly enthralled.

Freed wanted to say no, but he had to admit, this was too much. "A little."

"Good."

Freed gasped in a struggle as he realized Laxus was serious about keeping it this tight. Maybe he was used to half-choking his clients, but … it was too much for Freed. He hated to tell Laxus what to do, but this was not erotic for him, just painful and annoying, so he firmly requested: "Looser."

"All right." Laxus had wondered if Freed really would tell him to loosen it, and he was glad Freed could speak up on his own. He loosened it to where he could still put a finger's space between the collar and the neck. "You need to let me know, okay?"

Freed's eyes dropped. "Sorry."

"No, let me know. Don't be afraid to tell me."

"Okay. Have…?" He cringed to ask, but he knew he needed to. It was already bothering his conscience. "Have you ever put a collar on someone?"

Laxus looked at him sternly. "Their own collar. Not one of mine."

"This is mine," he muttered. "I bought it."

Laxus saw sadness in Freed's face. He had a point. Freed had done the exact same thing as his clients, buying a collar and wanting to wear it. Even if this collar had meaning between them, it was still _Freed's_ collar.

"That's true," he whispered, frowning and regretting now that he had not gone ahead and bought a collar of his own. Then he glared at Freed. "Can I steal it?"

Freed's eyes bolted up. "What?"

"I want it to be mine," he said possessively. "I want it to be my collar." He stroked along the edge of the leather. "My collar that I only use on you."

"O-oh." Laxus' own collar! Laxus had never used his own collar. He never bought supplies, so that meant he had never owned one. This would be a first for him. His first collar. _Their_ first collar! "Um … Merry Christmas," he grinned awkwardly.

Laxus barked out a joyful laugh. "You're a brat."

"Sorry," he smiled meekly.

"I accept."

Freed's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Yeah." Laxus took the tiny padlock and secured it with the key. Locked in, it was now his. Freed, the collar … all his! "So, this collar is your gift to me?"

"Y-yeah. I mean," he admitted bashfully, "I did buy you an actual Christmas pres—"

"Shut up."

Freed's words squeaked to a halt. "Okay!"

"It's a Hanukkah gift."

"Huh?"

"Shut up. My mother was Jewish."

"O-oh." Freed glanced around in shock. Well, that explained why Laxus' penis was circumcised. Jewish! Wow! They never discussed religion before. To find out Laxus was raised as a Jew … Freed wondered if he had a yarmulke, spun the dreidel, ate matzo ball soup, maybe he had a bar mitzvah as a kid…

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything!" he cried out.

Laxus did not have to hear it. He saw all the stereotypes running over that face. "People teased me about it," he grumbled, hoping that was enough to let Freed know not to discuss religion with him.

"O-…-kay." He wanted to ask questions, but maybe that was a bad idea. "I think it's fine," he insisted, but he still felt shocked by the news. Jewish? Laxus Dreyar was Jewish? He muttered awkwardly, "Happy Hanukkah?"

Laxus had to chuckle as his attempt to always be the good boy, even now, naked and collared and about to be fucked. "You know," he said with a predatory purr, "for Hanukkah, we're supposed to get a present every night."

Freed blinked. He knew this, he had heard about that tradition, about the eight days of Hanukkah and presents every day, but the way Laxus said it sounded erotic. "E-every night?"

"Yeah." Laxus glanced briefly down to Freed's groin, then back up with a lecherous grin. "Every night."

Freed moaned slightly. Every night! Eight days of fucking!

"Of course, Hanukkah started last night, so this is a belated gift."

"O-okay."

Laxus ran a finger around Freed's lips until his whole body shuddered. "So what are you gonna give me tonight?"

Give him? He would give his soul over to the thunder god! "Whatever you want."

"I still want you to touch me everywhere."

"Y-yeah." That was right. The reason they came here… "Yeah. I can do that."

"Everywhere!"

Freed choked up a bit. Everywhere meant _there_, too. He was going to do that, to touch Laxus everywhere, even _there_. He nervously agreed with a nod and a whisper of simply, "Yeah."

"Freed, look at me."

His eyes jolted up. "What?"

Laxus held those sallow cheeks and looked down at him firmly. "Is this really okay?"

"Yes." His touch felt so warm, so comforting and protective. He would agree to anything!

"You've never done it."

Freed gulped hard. "I know." He was so inexperienced. Before Laxus, he had only kissed a few guys, nothing like this. "There's a lot of stuff I haven't done that I think I would like to."

Laxus laughed a little. Lots of stuff he wanted to do, huh? Although they had been dating for a few months now, they really had not done many intimate things. It was usually the same BDSM as always, tying Freed up, whipping him with the riding crop, sometimes using the e-stim plug. They had penetrative sex for the first time only two weeks ago, and they had not had a chance to get together like this since then. He wondered what sort of things Freed wanted to try. There was a world of pleasure they could explore together!

"I'd like to feel your hands all over me," Laxus said in a low, lusty voice. "Everywhere! You haven't touched me in so many places. It's always me touching you." He took Freed's hands and placed them on his chest. "I want you to touch me," he demanded. "I want you to _spoil_ me. You're my slave now. This collar shows that I _own_ you, and you're mine. I haven't demanded much of you so far."

Freed lowered his gaze obediently. "You're a good master—"

"Shut up."

Freed choked back his praise nervously.

"I don't want you to talk." As soon as he said it, Freed's mouth slammed shut. "Good. I want you to use your mouth in other ways. I want you to touch me everywhere, and kiss me everywhere. I want to be drenched from head to toe with your tongue!"

He grabbed Freed's shoulders, pinned him against the wall, and kissed him forcefully, seeking out that tongue he wanted. Freed moaned as he tasted Laxus and the flavor of whiskey still lingering in his mouth. He could get drunk on this man's kisses!

With a growl, Laxus pressed his arms out, forcing his body away from Freed before he completely lost control.

"And I want you to do all that…" He left his words hanging as he walked over to the bag of goodies and pulled out the butt plug. "…while having _this_ in you."

Freed looked at it, then nervously back to him. "Laxus, I'll get too aroused."

"No. Just this. It won't be buzzing; it won't be doing anything. It'll just be right in your ass, and it'll remind you constantly that I want to be in there. Once you're done with me, you get that taken out…" His eyes narrowed dangerously. "…and I'm gonna fuck you _so hard_."

Freed moaned with shivering pleasure at the sensual threat. Laxus held a finger up, and Freed looked at that single finger as it lightly landed on his nose.

"But not if you come first," Laxus teased, and he licked his lips with amusement as Freed strained to calm himself back down. What an incredible man! Just a few months ago, he could not withstand a two-minute lap dance without coming in his pants. Now, he had learned some restraint. "Come here." Laxus walked over to the bed, but turned around when he did not hear feet following him. "Come on," he encouraged, as if calling a dog.

Freed began to walk, but his thighs refused to move. Hardly realizing it, he had gotten intensely aroused. Moving his legs hurt.

Laxus laughed at his shame and discomfort. "What? Are you so aroused you can't walk?"

"I … I can walk. It's just … um…" It hurt! He was so erect, it hurt.

"You're so hard already." His hand reached down and lightly stroked the turgid shaft.

Freed shuddered at the spike of pleasure burning from his groin and straight up his spine. "D-d-don't, I … I'm _already_ ready to come."

Laxus held his finger up and ordered sternly, "Don't!"

"I know. I don't want to."

Laxus saw this truly was an issue. "Lie down."

"Yes, master." He laid on the mattress and flipped his long hair around the pillow.

Laxus sat on the end of the bed cross-legged and relaxed. "Okay. I'm gonna do something." He frowned. "Maybe it's a little weird."

Freed arched an eyebrow. "Weird?" Kinky stuff, he was used to, but … weird? What on Earth could Laxus consider to be weird?

"I want you to relax. Whatever it takes, I don't want you to come yet."

"Okay."

"Give me your foot."

His … foot? Was this something kinky after all? A foot fetish maybe? He was pretty sure he did not have a foot fetish, but maybe Laxus did.

Laxus took one foot, set it in his lap, curled his fingers around it, and began to rub. As his thumbs dug in, Freed stiffened, only to instantly drop bonelessly limp with a moan of pleasure.

"Rubbing your feet. Heh, never thought I'd do this to someone."

"You … you're pretty good," he had to admit. His family's private masseuse, Porlyusica, was good at massages, but Freed usually felt weird when the old lady messed with his feet. Suddenly, Laxus' thumbs hit a spot, and Freed flopped in heavenly delight. "Oh, right there."

Laxus smiled to himself as he focused on the arch. "I used to give my mother foot rubs."

Freed looked down at the blond and saw a wistful mien in his faint smile. "You never talk about her."

Laxus' brow tensed as blue eyes and luscious blond hair came to mind, along with a laugh that was so distinct and musical, he would never forget it. "I don't like to," he said softly.

"Oh…"

"No," he cut in before Freed could apologize. "She was a great woman. She was a _hell_ of a woman!" He sighed sadly. "She deserved better in life. She deserved a hell of a lot better than my father. And she sure as hell didn't deserve to get cancer."

"Oh my God," Freed whispered. He often wondered what happened to her. Laxus always sounded like he loved his mother, so he was curious what became of her but was afraid to ask, just in case it was like this. "I'm sorry." He had no idea what else to say.

Laxus gave a weak shrug. "It's fine."

He never talked about her, because he always remembered the end, and that was a painful thing. He and his grandfather were forced to watch, helpless to stop the disease's vile progression. While she was in the hospital, they got news of Ivan Dreyar's whereabouts. Makarov was instrumental in getting Ivan put on INTERPOL's list of wanted international criminals, although it was his own son. That meant Laxus was losing his father for good, at the same time that his mother was dying. He felt betrayed by his grandfather, and it caused a permanent schism between them.

"She was a good woman, though," Laxus said proudly as he remembered good times together, just the two of them. "A _great_ mother. I always wanted to give back to her somehow. I mean, I was a teenager, you'd think I'd be wild and hating my parents and everything. Hated the hell out of my dad, but I realized my mom, she was cool. So I'd give her foot rubs. It was about the only thing I could do." He had been too weak as a kid, and too strong when whatever his father did to him kicked in. Somehow, his fingers, when on his mother's feet, were just strong and gentle enough for her. "When she got cancer, she'd ask me every time." He sniffed past the pain of those memories. "Every time I'd come into the hospital, she'd ask, 'Can you give me a foot rub?' The day she died, she wanted her feet rubbed. I did, and then she asked me to go wash my hands _like a good boy_, being a typical mother." His eyes saddened. "I think she just wanted me out of the room. When I came back, she had a smile on her face. She was buried with that smile."

Freed's mouth dropped open. This was the most Laxus had ever spoken about his past, and the only time he ever talked about his mother. What an awful thing to experience! And he had been only a teen!

"Laxus…" He wanted to hug him, hold him, and comfort the deep sadness that the blond was struggling not to show.

"So I don't mind giving foot rubs, but only to a person that I love." He smiled up to Freed. "Very much." His thumbs rubbed over his toes and over the top of the foot, and he focused back down on the feet with a faint blush.

Tears beaded up in Freed's eyes, and he whispered with heartfelt bliss, "Laxus!"

The blond laughed it off and shook his head. Shit! Getting so emotional over a little memory. "Only two people in the world ever got a foot rub from me. Her … and now you."

Freed wished he knew what to say to that, to be put on the same level as Laxus' own mother. It was definitely too great of an honor, and a tear slipped down his cheek. "Thank you. Th-that … it really means a lot."

"It should." He patted Freed's feet. "I see my little sob story softened you up."

"O-oh," he muttered, realizing he had completely forgotten about being turned on. "Well, it's a nice story. Though, it is sad."

"Yeah, it happens." He knew his story was hardly unique. Plenty of people lost loved ones to cancer. Still, it was a pain that would never fully leave him. "How about … you just hold me?" Was he really muttering a request? Not demanding it? What was wrong with him? He laughed at his own weakness. "Damn! Today's been a hell of a day," he said lightly, but memories from earlier—Freed's parents, quitting Jellal, calling every single client to tell them he was cutting out of their contract—it all came rushing back into his mind. Softly, he repeated, "Hell of a day."

Freed saw the weariness. "Laxus," he called, holding his arms out. The blond collapsed into that embrace, then curled onto his side and hugged Freed to him.

"Just start touching me. Start from the head and work down." With slow movements, he pulled off his clothes, leaving only the leather pants on. He caressed Freed's cheek and asked tenderly, "Do you really not want the butt plug in?"

"Wait a little bit. I just wanna … I wanna touch you for now. Just gently."

Laxus ran his fingers through the long hair. "I'm never gentle with anyone but you. Damn it, why are you like this?" He always felt strange around Freed, not quite weaker, but … like no matter how much he tried, he could never stay stoic and aloof. He gazed into that face, the long eyelashes, the gleaming hair, a cute beauty mark just under his turquoise eye, and Laxus wondered what it was about him. What made this man different from everyone else he had ever known? "You really mess me up."

Messed him up? "Is that okay?" Freed asked worriedly.

Laxus closed his eyes and smiled to himself. "Yeah, I don't mind, if it's you." If he had to lose control to anyone, he would rather collapse into Freed's arms, since he knew the swordsman would hold him up.

Freed stroked through the blond hair, then down, raking his fingers gently over his brow, getting the tension to ease out. Laxus hummed with pleasure as the stress melted. Those fingers caressed his cheeks, along his nose, and down to his neck.

"Mmmm. Touch me on my cheeks some more."

Freed brought his hands back up, stroking the chiseled features. "Did that asshole who bothered you touch your cheeks?"

"Che! Bastard tried to kiss me."

Freed jolted and screamed, "_What?_"

"Yeah, that's when he got punched."

"Good!"

Laxus kept his eyes shut, but he laughed to himself. "Man, if only you knew," he muttered.

"Knew what?"

"Oh, nothing," he said in amusement. There was no way he could tell Freed who that _asshole_ was. "I talked about you."

Freed's eyes widened. "To a client?"

"He wanted me exclusively. Told him I couldn't." He opened his eyes and gazed at Freed. "Told him I had someone who I cared for very deeply."

Freed's face went warm, and he looked away with a soft, "Oh."

"Does that make you happy?"

"Uh … kinda."

"It should."

"It does!" he cried out, but he blushed more. "I-it … it does."

"Of course it does."

Freed wanted to laugh. Laxus often said things like _Of course it does_ or _Of course you do_, as if he already knew how everything he did would affect Freed's heart. "Did he touch your shoulders here?"

"Yeah, he seemed to be quite fascinated with my _muscles_," he said with a sneer. "Some people are."

"I am," he mumbled. "Is that bad?"

"No. You're fascinated by a lot more than my muscles, right?"

"Mmm." Freed glanced to the leather pants.

Laxus laughed at his blatant horniness. "Don't eye down there yet," he scolded playfully, then he leaned back and sighed. "I'm … not aroused yet." He tried to slip back into a sense of relaxation. "Too stressed out to be aroused."

"Sorry." He rubbed the back of Laxus' neck, then down to his shoulders, massaging them. "Is this helping?"

"Yeah. Man, what is it with your fingers? Shit…" He could enjoy this all day. "I've seen you fight, seen how you hold a sword. Somehow your fingers are just … incredible." He snorted a soft laugh, then as those nimble hands touched him all along his arms, he sighed peacefully.

Freed moved back to the neck, down the collar, and to the upper chest, over the tattoos on the pectorals. "Here too?"

"Yeah. Just … everywhere," he whispered in bliss, feeling like he could lie there with his eyes closed and drift off to sleep.

Freed bit his lip to hold back a teasing laugh. "What about here?" Suddenly, his fingers twisted Laxus' nipples.

"Shit!" Laxus bolted straight up and covered his chest with his hands. "What…? No, _he_ did not touch my nipple." Damn brat! Damn, smirking, too-sexy-for-his-own-good brat! Laxus flopped back down and grumbled curses under his breath. Then, reluctant to admit he liked it, he muttered awkwardly. "Um … do that some more." He heard a giggle from Freed and barked, "What?"

"You're blushing," Freed pointed out in lighthearted amusement.

Laxus turned his face away in humiliation. "Shut up."

"Did it feel good?"

"Shut up," he muttered petulantly.

Freed traced his fingers around the nipples again, round and around, until they hardened. "Right here?" Softly, he twisted the nipples between his fingers, not teasing and aiming to shock him, but softly, sensually, sending jolts through Laxus' nerves that shot straight down to his groin.

"Oh … ffff- … fuck," he whispered, ashamed at making noises like this, but, damn it all, that felt incredible!

Freed was fascinated that Laxus was reacting so strongly. Normally, he kept himself under control. Now, it was like every touch surprised him. "Um, has anyone ever touched you here?"

"Not like that." He moaned slightly. "Shit."

Freed was shocked. He figured Laxus must have experienced almost everything. Then again, he never let people get close to him. Touching nipples was not the only first the two of them had discovered.

"They never touched you here? Or licked here?" He leaned his mouth over. "Like this?" Softly, Freed pulled at the nipple with his lips.

Laxus gasped and suddenly slammed Freed's face away, shocked by how good it felt. "Freed!" He was panting hard now. "Oh fuck…"

Freed had a devious grin. He glanced swiftly down to the trousers and saw the lump pressing hard against the leather. Playfully, he teased, "I think you're aroused."

"Go to hell."

Freed laughed happily. The grouchier Laxus acted, the stronger he felt internally about something. This must have really rocked him. "I can't," he replied, and he leaned up into Laxus' face. "Because I'm in heaven." He dipped down and stole a swift kiss.

"Damn green angel," Laxus muttered, but he smirked. This guy! Freed had hedonistic lust simmering in his eyes as he slithered down Laxus' body and back to his chest. Slowly, wetly, he laved over the nipple. "Oh man!" Laxus snatched the back of the green hair, not sure if he wanted more or wanted it to stop. Softly, Freed scraped his teeth over the nipple. "Enough, enough! Damn!"

Laxus yanked Freed's head up by the hair, but the college student was playfully licking his upper lip. Damn bitch! Laxus moaned and collapsed backwards. As he lay there, he began to pout. Damn, stupid, _sexy_ bitch!

Rolling his eyes in surrender, he grumbled, "Other … one … too."

"Oh?" Freed mused lightly. "You liked it?"

"Shut up." As he felt that mouth work the other side, Laxus pursed his lips tightly. Like hell he'd moan again like a tomcat in heat!

Freed glanced up from where he was suckling and saw Laxus' face turn crimson. He raised up and rested an elbow on the barrel chest. "I don't see this side of you too often: the side that can accept pleasure."

"Not many people want to give me pleasure." He sighed and confessed, "Not many people can."

"I like to."

Laxus stroked his fingers over the soft cheeks. "You're the only one who can." He looked aside in frustration. "That bastard couldn't."

"Did he try?"

"He was groping me like a … like … I don't know. Like a five-year-old to a monkey or something."

Freed's eyebrow arched up. "That makes absolutely no sense."

"Shut up! I can't … can't think when you're doing that."

He chortled slyly. "You mean touching you … here?" Again, both hands tweaked his nipples at the same time.

Laxus only barely held back a cry of pleasure. "Y-yeah."

"I bet a lot of people want to."

"I don't want to think about that! I gave up _that_. No more. No more clubs, no more clients." He grabbed those distracting fingers and gripped both of Freed's hands tightly in his. He gazed seriously at the young man. "I'm sorry I put you through that."

"I knew what I was getting into."

"I'm still sorry."

"It's okay, really." He shrugged lightly. "It was part of the package."

Laxus glanced up worriedly. "Is it okay if it's not?"

"Yeah, I don't mind."

So much had happened today. As Laxus left the Justines' home, he knew he had to get rid of every single client, but he had no clue at first how Freed would react to this sudden decision, especially that he felt he should quit the South Pole Club, as well. After all, that was where they met. Laxus sighed to hear that he was fine with having a boyfriend who was _not_ a strip dancer—some exotic profession—and instead having an unemployed bum with no marketable skills.

"Keep touching," he whispered, needing this reaffirmation. "Everywhere!"

Freed ran his fingers over Laxus' hard abdomen. "Do people touch around here a lot?"

"I told you, I don't want to think about others."

"Okay," he whispered sadly, hoping to soothe away the stress.

"Just us." He stroked the back of his fingers over Freed's arm. "From now on, just us."

Freed smiled to hear that, but he felt slightly uneasy. "I still can't give you everything you need, though." He had suggested that fetish club, a more open area, monitored and structured. They talked only briefly about it on the walk here. It was an alternative, but Freed wondered if it would be okay for both of them. Would Laxus be allowed to get as rough as he was used to doing in the private homes of rich old men? Would Freed be able to stomach seeing Laxus do those sorts of things to another person? It was scary, venturing into the unknown together.

Laxus saw the worry in that pinched brow. "If that's ever a problem, you let me know. I don't ever want to force you."

A problem … if ever that was a problem, if Laxus' need as a sadist could never be sated any other way … then what? Would that be the end of _them_? That was what Freed feared.

"But that would mean, I won't to be able to have you. I like that idea even less."

He needed Laxus, needed him like he had never needed another person in his life. He had been raised by loving but stoic parents, trained to be proper and never express emotions too freely, expected to live in a world that was a bubble away from normal people, to hide his loneliness as he perched on the top of the corporate ladder. He was taught never to depend on anyone but his own skills and wits.

Now, he realized he could never go through life that way. He needed someone to hold him and shelter him from time to time. He needed Laxus to give him that dose of raw reality in a world of plastic perfection. He needed love and warmth and strong arms that shielded him from the harshness outside. To lose this was unthinkable! If he had to pick: sharing Laxus with some submissive person who wanted more masochistic pain than Freed could withstand, or losing Laxus completely…

"Sharing you with someone else … isn't so bad," he said sadly, "but the thought of not having you … I just…" He shook his head, refusing to accept that possibility.

Laxus saw tears beading on his thick lashes, and he pulled Freed down into his chest. "Shhhh. That's not gonna happen. Like I said, if I do need this, and I need _more_, I want you there. It's your turn to protect me."

Freed laughed a little. A mouse like him, protecting a god?

"I'm serious," Laxus insisted.

He still chuckled. "It's just ironic." Wasn't it supposed to be the dominant's job to protect the submissive?

Laxus pouted and looked away. "Well, that's what I want."

"Okay. So I get to protect you, huh?"

"After that bastard, yeah," he grumbled.

"I really want to kick that guy's ass, whoever he was."

Laxus laughed softly again.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing." He hummed that this was his own private joke now. He looked up at Freed's confused tilt of the head and could hardly help himself. He grabbed both of those pale cheeks and stated firmly, "I really do love you."

Freed could hardly believe this. "Really, what's gotten into you?"

"An epiphany. Heh! Him of all people to give it to me."

"Laxus?" _Him? Him who? The client?_ "What do you mean?"

Laxus sighed. Freed's own father had showed him how deeply he had fallen in love. "It means I only want you. Is that okay?"

"Yeah."

"It means … I want you to give me a foot rub now."

Freed had to laugh at just how seriously he said that, ordering, demanding, the same old Laxus once again. "Okay," he smirked.

"I want you to touch me everywhere." He smiled at the slight timidity in that blushing face. "Keep touching, come on," he urged.

"Yeah, yeah!" Freed chuckled as he ran his hands over that muscular body.

"All of my leg, _everything_," he ordered. "I don't want an Achilles' heel. I want your hands all over me."

"Well, here's your Achilles' heel."

He laughed at thinking that Laxus knew about that myth, that Achilles was invincible due to being dipped in the river Styx as a baby, but his mother had held him by the heel, the only place where the water did not touch, so that was the only vulnerable spot on his body, and ultimately an arrow to the heel was the cause of Achilles' downfall. Freed wanted to completely cover Laxus' body, everywhere, no spot left void and vulnerable.

"Stroke along there," Freed said soothingly as he tried to touch every single bit of flesh. "All along your foot. Between your toes." However, as he touched the webbing between those large toes, he made a face. "They're sweaty!"

Laxus glared. "Shut up."

"Well, they _are_ sweaty. My goodness, you have sweaty feet."

"Shut up!"

He sounded so petulant, like a sulking child, and it amused Freed. Today, Laxus was so different, almost vulnerable. It was sad to see, but Freed also liked caring for him in this moment of weakness. Whatever happened, however that perverted client must have harassed him, it obviously gave Laxus a hell of a shock. It was time for someone else to assuage the thunder god.

"Flip around. I want to get your back now. You should always protect your back," Freed schooled, being the fencing champion he was.

"Yeah…" he sighed.

Laxus decided to remove his pants now. They were tight, and his belt buckle would dig into his stomach if he laid on top of it. So as he flipped around, he removed the last of his clothes, then flopped his face down onto the pillows.

Laxus never turned his back on people. Even while dancing, Gray had told him many times that he should turn around and show off his ass more, since the audience loved booty shakes. Laxus did not trust them, though. He preferred to face people or be behind them, not expose his back. However, he felt that with Freed, he was safe. Freed would protect his back. If anyone in this world could fight back-to-back with Laxus, it was this swordsman-scholar.

Freed began at the lower calves and slowly worked up. "I've never really looked at your back—" He cut off sharply, and his hands stopped at the knees.

"What?"

Freed's eyes drew up to what awaited him. He had seen it a few times already, but now, with Laxus' back to him, he saw it up close and could hardly help but laud this grand view. "You have a sexy ass!"

Laxus' face instantly went bright red. "Shut up!"

Freed had to laugh at his adorable embarrassment. "Well, you do. And your legs." He continued to run his hands up the legs sensually. "Mmmm. Right along here." He groped those two globes, massaging Laxus' butt, even between the crack, until Laxus grunted with hidden pleasure. "And up your back." Freed wanted to stay at the butt cheeks longer, but his hands went on their journey, rubbing all around to cover every bit of flesh.

Suddenly, Laxus felt a jolt of pleasure in his nerves. "Ooh! Right there."

Freed focused on the back muscles. "You're stiff."

"Yeah, I've been told that," he muttered. Porlyusica noted his tension last time.

"Huh?"

"Nothing." He really did not want to talk about his visit to the Justines, not now.

Freed massaged those bulging deltoids and trapezius muscles. He looked at the swirling pattern of the black tattoos. He felt that there were scars back here as well, covered up by the odd patterns of the tattoos. Laxus' back was strong, impressive, and yet somehow Freed sensed that it was vulnerable. As he gave Laxus a massage, he could not shake off that feeling.

"Ah, that feels good," Laxus groaned. "You know massage?"

Freed gave a humble shrug. "Sometimes in fencing, you pull a muscle, so the students would rub each other's shoulders out."

"Mmmh. Well, that's good. Damn."

Suddenly, Freed's hands yanked away, and he gasped sharply.

"What? You stopped, what?"

"N- … Nothing," he said in a startled whisper.

"What?"

Freed gulped hard, staring down at the scars. "Have you ever looked at your back?"

"No," he said in confusion.

"It's covered by the tattoo but … there's a number etched into your skin. Oh my God," he breathed. A number! A number carved right into the flesh!

Laxus' brow tensed up, and coldly he answered, "My dad."

"He numbered his own son?" Freed cried out in horror. "Like…?" He could not dare say it.

"Yeah. Like I was just one more science experiment," he said bitterly. Laxus took a slow breath in and said aloud. "Subject number 4-6-2."

Freed gawked in dread. Subject number? His stomach felt ready to hurl.

Laxus shook his head sadly. "Makes me wonder who the other four hundred and sixty-one were before he decided to turn to me."

"Oh God…" He gulped hard. Over four hundred people had experiments done to them. Over four hundred! Were they all children as well? Did they all have scars? Were they even still alive?

Laxus began to turn around. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, I just … th-that's … that's _worse_ than awful. That's…" A tear dripped down. Laxus had been just a _subject_, a test experiment. Number 462.

Laxus began to turn and reached his hand out. "Hey…"

"No!" Freed forced him down with surprising strength. He might be a scholar, but he was still a champion fencer. He had power when he wanted it. "Just stay down. I don't want you to worry."

Laxus heard the tears choking his throat. "Hey, Freed…"

"No!" he cried out, pushing Laxus hard against the mattress. "No … no, I'll just keep massaging. Like this." His hands worked forcefully.

"You're doing it too hard now." Laxus forced himself up, not letting Freed get control again. He sat up, but Freed's head was down. "Hey…" Was he crying? Then Laxus felt a wet drop hit his skin, and an inhale from Freed snorted with snot. "Come here," he encouraged, but Freed stubbornly shook his head. Laxus yanked him forward forcefully and embraced him. "Come here."

"I don't want to worry you," he whispered.

"I'm not worried. You are."

"Laxus…" His heart ached for what must have been a childhood of fear and suffering.

"It's all right," Laxus said soothingly. "It happened when I was a kid."

That only made it worse! Freed burrowed his face down into Laxus' shoulder. Those strong arms wrapped around him in comfort. Laxus had honestly forgotten about the number branded into his shoulder. He did not think much about it, just one more thing he suffered through during that dark time, but as he saw Freed's horror to it, he realized just how inhumane that action really was: reducing one's own son to a test subject!

He gently stroked down Freed's hair. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said numbly. "Still…" He blinked the tears away. "It's still just … a shame."

"Yeah, it is." Laxus kissed the top of Freed's head. "Thanks … for caring," he said awkwardly.

"Of course I do!"

Laxus smiled happily to himself. _Of course!_ He often said that. "Of course it feels good. Of course it hurts." It was a way to belittle one person's opinion. When Freed said it, it was different. It was like he was pleading with Laxus to believe in his sincerity. All Laxus could do was hug him and sigh with happiness.

Laxus sat up sharply and ordered, "Come on. I wanna put that plug in you."

Freed felt stunned by the sudden change. "Um … now?"

"Yeah, 'cause I don't want to remember the past. I want to be focused right here with you. Okay?" he asked, hoping this was fine with him.

Freed saw the need in those eyes. It was not just about kinks. This was to keep Laxus from losing himself in the sadness of childhood trauma. So he gave his consent and began to undress while Laxus walked over to the bag of sex toys. He pulled out the butt plug and walked to the restroom to give it a thorough washing before using it.

Laxus watched the water flow over the silicone and cleaned it with methodical precision. He was escaping, true, and that sucked! It was running away, and he hated doing that. Still, he just really needed to stop thinking about _that time_ before he got lost in the hatred and needed to hurt Freed just to feel better. He preferred being gentle.

Which was not normal for him! He was _never _gentle. He even treated his grandfather gruffly. His mother had been the only one to see his tender side, and now it was Freed who reeled in that gentle beast hidden within the scarred and tattooed body.

When he walked back into the main area of the hotel room, Freed was laid out on the sheets, naked and glorious. Laxus paused just to look down at him, and Freed bashfully turned his face away. Those taut muscles, firm from swordfighting, but a thinness to him, like he did not eat enough while studying all the time. Perhaps they should go out for dinner later. Laxus made a note of that. They had the hotel all night. There was no rule that they had to stay inside the hotel room the whole time. A date out to some student café would be nice.

Later, though. Right now, he wanted this man to spoil him, and he wanted to see pleasure color those sallow cheeks. He grabbed up a bottle of lube from the bag of goodies and drizzled it copiously over the plug, spreading it around with his fingers until the whole thing was slick. Then he settled down on the bed and pulled Freed's legs apart forcefully.

"Here we go."

"Not your fingers?" he asked in surprise as he already felt the tip of the plug press against his hole.

"Nah, you should be stretched out by now. Here." He lined up the plug to the precise angle he knew he would need. Then he stared down sadistically at Freed. "And I wanna hear you scream!"

He rammed the plug in, fast and hard. It made it halfway in before Freed tensed up too much from the shock, and Laxus could not go further without tearing him. Freed's cry of pain was musical, and Laxus felt himself getting hard just from that much.

"Good way to stay in the moment, right?" he teased lightly. Laxus began to pull the plug out, only to press in more.

Freed moaned wantonly, "Laxus…"

Yes! That was what he wanted to hear! "Does it hurt?"

"A bit."

"Good!"

He pressed more, and Freed clutched tightly to the pillow, straining against the pain of the slow stretching. He tried so hard not to outright scream.

"Safe words, remember?" Laxus warned.

"I know. I know." It hurt! And it felt wonderful! The pleasure made him want to come, and the pain killed that need, leaving him intensely aroused without the trouble of prematurely ending this. Still … it really did hurt. He clenched his teeth as the plug went even deeper. "Dammit…" He began to shudder from the sensation that was so good, yet so uncomfortable.

"You okay?" Laxus asked, pausing to watch him and see if it was too much.

"Yeah. Keep going," he demanded, wanting it all, everything, all of it at once. Now!

"All right."

Laxus palmed the end of the plug hard, getting over the thickest part, until the divot slid into place. The half second of agony ended suddenly, and Freed's whole body arched up at the relief that instantly followed. Any pain vanished. All that was left was an amazing feeling of something inside him, filling him, and those blue eyes gazing down, utterly enthralled.

"God, you're hot," Laxus whispered, barely able to contain himself.

Freed panted now that it was over and glanced up at him, softly moaning his name, "Laxus."

"That was so good," he praised, still amazed at how seeing this man's reactions could tingle his nerves, affecting not just his groin, but all of his body. Everything sparked like a live wire at the sound of Freed's pleasured moans. "Shit, when was the last time I really made you cry out like that?" he wondered.

They had done it a few times in the dorm, but they had to be quiet there. They had not come to a hotel in a long time. Laxus could barely help himself; he reached down, needing something to touch his cock. It was so hard, just hearing Freed panting for air. If he was not careful, he might come before they even had fun.

"Oh, fuck." Suddenly, he collapsed on top of Freed, clutching him possessively.

Freed squirmed under him. "Laxus, you're heavy."

"I know, sorry." He pressed his arms up, holding his upper torso off of that thin body. "Like that?"

"Yeah."

Although Laxus held himself up, he still nuzzled into Freed's neck, smelling him, his nose rubbing up into the green hair to enjoy the scent of shampoo. He lightly licked Freed's neck, wanting this man so much.

"Just need to feel you," he whispered into Freed's ear, then licked around the rim. "I need to know I'm in control still."

Freed wrapped his arms around and pulled Laxus in a little closer. "Master!"

"Fuck…"

That word! That title! Hearing Freed call him that always did something, like a heavenly jolt zapping Laxus' nerves. If he was called Thor, this incredible man was his Mjölnir, hammering at his heart and sending sparks to his groin. He gulped down intense excitement and tried to get his cock to listen to him that now was not the time to fuck him.

"All right…" Nope, his cock still felt stiff and needy. Laxus forcefully ignored it and flopped onto his back. That forced Freed to sit up despite the plug putting pressure inside of him. He grinned up at the green-haired man and playfully told him, "Time for you to touch where you've never touched before."

Freed laughed nervously. Touch … there! "Um, how do you want me to do that?"

"However you want. How about face up? You can watch me."

"Is that okay?"

"Yeah. I want to watch you. I want to see how you look as you feel inside me."

Freed shivered. Feeling him … in there! Everywhere!

"And this way," Laxus smirked slyly, "I can keep an eye on … this."

He suddenly grabbed Freed's erection, and a sharp moan jolted out.

"Should we put the cock ring on now?"

"Um … no, not yet." He remembered Laxus saying that cock rings could only be worn for a short period of time, and he had no clue how long he would be touching his body.

Laxus spread his legs and lifted his knees up, exposing himself fully. Freed looked down at his fingers, then at the tiny puckered hole that he was supposed to enter. He began to reach forward.

"Hey, get the lube."

"Oh! Right, right." Lube! Yes! Lube for his fingers. He was going … in there! And he needed to make it feel good. Lube helped. Lube … yes! His mind fluttered wildly as he poured probably too much lube onto his fingers and returned to the entrance in front of him. "Um … okay. Um, like this?" He lightly began to trace the puckering. His heart was pounding so fast, all he could hear was the rushing in his ears.

"Your fingers aren't sharp, right?"

Freed yanked back. "What?"

"Your fingernails?"

Freed glanced down at his hand. "Um … N-no."

Laxus grabbed the lubed hand and inspected it. The last thing he wanted was a fingernail cutting up his colon. "Damn, your hands look manicured."

"They don't!" he snapped, blushing. "I just keep them cleaned."

Laxus looked at him deadpan. "They look manicured."

"Shut up!"

"They're manicured, aren't they?"

"No!" he cried out, then hesitantly admitted, "…Maybe."

Laxus rolled his eyes. "Damn rich boy."

He stuttered out denials, but then decided to just explain it. "My fencing instructor wanted to take a picture, and I knew they were gonna be focusing on my hand, a-and I—"

"Shut up."

"Okay!" he said, snapping his lips closed immediately.

Laxus laughed at how quickly he obeyed. He stroked Freed's hair. What a good slave, and what an amazing man. "It's fine," he assured Freed, but suddenly something dawned on him. "Wait, does that mean you were modeling?"

"Well, they were taking pictures and—"

"You were modeling," he said bluntly.

He muttered bashfully, "M-maybe." Was he mad?

"I want a picture," Laxus demanded.

Freed jolted, surprised he was not jealous. "Uh, sure! Yeah."

Laxus nodded firmly in satisfaction. "Okay."

Freed still felt awkward. "It's okay that I did that?"

He scoffed softly. "It's for your fencing thing. Of course it's okay." He might be a dominant, but dominants could not control their submissive's personal life.

"O-okay."

"What, ya thinking of becoming a model?" he teased.

"No!" he insisted, then bashfully muttered, "I just wasn't sure if it would be okay?"

"Well, you weren't nude, right?"

"Of course not!"

"Then it's fine. They're just taking pictures of you, and I want a copy."

A copy. A picture. Of him! Freed realized that he had no pictures of Laxus at all. They had not even snapped a selfie of themselves together. "Do you have pictures of me at home?"

"I have one on my cellphone."

Freed smiled bashfully. "You took a picture of me?" How sweet!

"Loke did."

Freed jolted out of his daydream of Laxus secretly photographing him. "Loke?" he said with a sneer.

"Yeah." Laxus had gazed at the picture so many times while masturbating at home. He really should take a descent picture of Freed, something he could show to others, but that was just awkward. Then, realizing he could tease Freed with this, he got a devious smile. "It's a _sexy_ picture."

Sure enough, Freed went instantly red and tried to shout, only to choke up. "Agh … geh … whuh … wh-when did he take this?"

Laxus licked his lips at how humiliated Freed looked. What a lovely shade of red to his cheeks! He teased him mischievously, "Not telling."

"I want to see that," Freed insisted.

"Shut up…" Laxus grabbed the slave collar and yanked Freed down nose-to-nose, reminding him of who was master. "…and touch me."

The financial magnate he had been born and raised to become rippled away as he felt the collar and shivered as he faced those demanding eyes. Still, he had his pride as an upper class socialite. Too many families like the Justines had been brought down by a single cellphone picture being leaked out into the public.

"It's not like a _scandalous_ picture, is it?"

"Nah … although you're naked."

Freed cried out in horror. Naked? There was a naked picture of him on someone's cellphone?

"And so am I," Laxus told him.

Freed's horror shifted to curiosity. "Wait, the two of us?" Both of them? Naked? And Loke took it? When the hell did _this_ happen?

"Heh, he took it when we were asleep."

"Oh." That day! Their first time … and they had fallen asleep together. Laxus had stayed the night. Now it made sense. Still, _Loke—_of all people—had taken it! "Can you _see_ anything?"

"Oh hell no! I would have punched him if he did that."

"Okay, good," he said in relief. "I don't want Loke to see _that_."

"Heh! What, are you afraid he might want _me_?" he asked playfully, but he realized that Freed was scowling. It was rather cute. "Look, your friend is straight. He's not gonna want me."

"I can still feel jealous," he grumbled with a pout. "He takes up all the nice girls. What if he takes up the guys?"

"Che, be jealous about the _right_ things." _Like your father, that bastard!_

"Huh?"

"You're clueless."

"Sorry."

"Touch me already."

"Oh! Right." Touching! He was supposed to touch Laxus … in … there. "Um, so, like this?" Slowly, being as gentle as possible, he slipped his finger inside. He felt the tight clench of muscles and warmth inside. Freed had never touched someone else this way. It squeezed between flesh and slowly sank within.

"Ah!" Laxus said with a soft hiss. "That _is_ weird."

"Is it okay?"

"Just keep touching." Everywhere! Everything! He wanted to be touched all over. He wanted Freed to claim his body, so that no one else could. However, as the finger pressed in more, there was a sharp jolt of pain mixed with pleasure. "Ahh! Okay, stop."

"I'm barely in."

"Shut up, okay?" he snapped. "It's my first time." He tried to think about what his submissives did. Relax, right? Relax those anal muscles and it was supposed to feel better. He struggled to, but it was not easy.

Freed eased his finger back to take an edge off the pain. As he did, he saw just a tiny bit of something brown. _Oh shit! Literally!_ Of course, he was touching _there_, so it should not be too surprising to get a little dirty.

He teased in a singsong voice, "You didn't use a suppository."

Laxus went pink as he realized _why_ Freed must have brought that up. He must be dirty! "You're just _touching_ it, though."

"Yeah, but you make me."

That was true. He wanted Freed to be clean inside, and here he was making him stick his finger in his ass, and he was not even sure how well he had wiped the last time he took a shit. "Uh, do you want me to?" he asked, reluctantly offering. If it was dirty and sickening to Freed, that was no good at all. He wanted to make things enjoyable for both of them.

"Nah, this is okay." With a playful glint in his eyes, Freed slid deeper inside.

Laxus moaned as pleasure and weirdness mixed in some bizarre yet amazing way. It was … strange. And incredible. Maybe a little discomforting, but not truly painful. No wonder Freed reacted so intensely. Freed felt this sort of pleasure each time Laxus touched him down here. Freed got this weird but wonderful sensation every single time.

"Freed…" he groaned.

He cocked his head to the side as he gazed down at his finger sliding inside and back out. In a trance, he whispered, "I do like watching this."

Laxus' scarred eyebrow raised. "What?"

"Your face." His face, his ass, his whole body reacting to his touches. He loved it all! "Heh, this is actually pretty nice: giving you pleasure for a change."

"The hell you talkin' about? You always give me pleasure."

"Yeah, but … not like this." He slid back, almost out, but when he pressed in again, a second finger joined him, stretching wider. Laxus cried out, struggling not to moan, and failing dramatically.

"Ah fuck! You know just what you're doing, don't you?"

"Well, you do it to me so much, I have an idea of … where … to … hit."

With an impish smirk, Freed pressed as deep as he could and let his fingers curl up until he felt the lump inside.

Laxus' eyes popped open, and a gasp of pleasure sputtered out so suddenly, there was no way he could hold himself back from the noise. "God, what was that?" He heard chuckling and glared up at Freed. He had done something amazing, and Laxus wanted to know, "What the hell did you just do?"

"Prostate," he explained simply with an imperious smile.

"Aw, fuck. So that's how it feels."

"You've never done it? Like, even on your own?"

"No!"

"Not even, y'know, just curious? With your own finger."

"No," he sneered. "I've never thought about it." He realized Freed was staring hard now. "…What?"

He shook his head out of his shocked daze. "I just thought it was weird. I mean, you know exactly where to hit on me. I figured maybe you—you know—practiced on your own."

"Well I don't, okay?" He hated to admit that he knew what felt good only due to years as a professional sadist and touching other men. He hated to think about those years now. "Do that again," he whispered.

"You mean … here?"

He curled his fingers again, stroking that spot, aiming for it. Laxus' fists clenched the sheets, and his body arched up on its own. "Fuck! Argh!" He strained not to make sounds like that, but … holy shit, it felt amazing! "Touch me _everywhere_."

"Even here?" His other hand reached down, and he softly stroked Laxus' balls.

"Oh God, yes. Oh _God_," he shuddered deeply.

Those were the hands of a fucking angel! Laxus felt ashamed at his wanton moans, but no amount of clenching his teeth could hold him back. He was ready to roar like a dragon. When he looked up, he saw Freed with what had to be the sexiest, most fuckable face, a tiny smile that showed pure and utter enthrallment, while intense desire smoldered in his eyes.

"Don't look at me like that," Laxus grumbled. "You're gonna make me come."

"Wouldn't want that, would we?" he smirked, but then uncertainty twisted in. "Um, can I try something?"

"What?"

"Um, it … it might be a little weird."

Weird? Oh, he _had_ to hear this! "Okay, tell me."

He wanted this. He had wanted to do it since their first time together, but it was awkward to ask, and he knew it would be embarrassing for him personally. That was partly _why_ Freed wanted to ask. It was daring and humiliating and … oh God, so delicious!

"Can I … um … uh … be … on top?"

Laxus stared at him blankly and muttered, "What the hell?"

Oh crap, that came out totally wrong! "I mean _riding_ on top. Not … not _that_," he said bashfully. "Just … sitting … on top."

Laxus still stared at him, but a dark fire burned his blue eyes. In a low and commanding voice, he snarled, "Get that damn plug out of your ass right now."

"Right." Breathlessly, with his heart fluttering with excitement, Freed reached behind him … and yanked. It came out so fast, so sudden, he cried out and collapsed on top of Laxus' chest, gasping in pain.

"Okay, you went _way_ too fast."

"Shut up," he snapped, wanting to get over the pain quickly.

"Oh, you're telling _me_ to shut up now?" Laxus asked in a challenge.

Freed gulped down the shocking pain. Lesson learned: never yank a butt plug out forcefully. It burned down there, but that hardly diminished his desire. If anything, it made him want to be filled up again, and quickly. The pain eased away, and he slowly climbed up, straddling Laxus across the hips.

"C-can I?"

"You better now that you've said it."

"Okay." He began to pull back his other hand.

"Keep your finger in my ass."

"What?"

"Keep…" He grabbed Freed's wrist. "…that damn finger up my ass when you do this."

"Oh, right."

Laxus snatched the lube off the nightstand and thrust it at Freed, silently ordering him to prep him. Freed drizzled the viscous fluid on, then handed the bottle back. He held Laxus' cock with one hand, with the other twisted behind him and down between the butt cheeks. Holding the twitching erection steady, he lowered himself down. He was already slick and stretched from the plug, so Laxus glided in with hardly any resistance. Freed moaned as pressure returned to his ass, thicker this time, way more intense.

"Oh God, yes." Laxus closed his eyes as he felt Freed slip down onto him. It was incredible to feel, and as his eyes peeked open, he saw Freed's flushed face as he gave himself a moment to adjust. "Damn, you're so hot."

Freed felt the ache ebb away, and when he looked down, he saw his thunder god laid out before him. Like this, being on top and looking down, was incredible. "Laxus…"

"You okay?" he asked in amazement.

"It feels good like this." That was an understatement! "Really good." Dammit, his eloquence went right out the window when he was being pierced by that cock.

Laxus saw the intense pleasure. Maybe reclining like this and watching his little slave do all the work wasn't such a bad thing! With a playful laugh, he ordered, "Ride me, cowboy."

Freed chuckled. "That's stupid." Seriously, what a cliché thing to say!

"Yeah, it is," he admitted, but then he stared hard and ordered, "But ride me anyway."

Damn, that was the sort of dominating look that made Freed turn to putty. He tried to adjust his position, but his other hand was twisted strangely. He began to pull it out again.

"Keep your finger there."

"It's a little awkward—"

"I don't care," Laxus cut in. "I want you to keep touching me inside."

"O-okay. Maybe if I angle it like— Oh _God_!" he suddenly screamed with a high yelp. "That felt good. Ooooh!"

Laxus grabbed his hips. "Stay like that." Freed moaned and shook his head. It was too intense! "Stay … like that." Such an order could not be disobeyed. "You okay?"

"Yeah." He answered, but it was more like a question. Was he really okay? He felt like if he shifted even a little, his whole body would shatter in pleasure.

"Try moving."

Freed just barely pulled back up. He cried, almost cursed as lightning flashed through all of his nerves. It was so intense, it was painful, yet that made it feel so much more wonderful.

"It's hitting right in your sweet spot, ain't it?"

He shivered and whimpered, "Mm-hmm."

"Angle yourself how you want it."

Freed shifted just a little to ease off the intensity.

"Here's your order, bitch," Laxus said roguishly, and he tugged on the collar ring again, reminding Freed that even if he was on top, he was the slave here. "Entertain me."

"Nngh!" Freed felt ashamed. Entertain him? How?

"Come on! I'm always dancing for you. Your turn to give the lap dance."

Laxus grabbed Freed's shoulders and hefted himself up into a sitting position. Without pulling out, he readjusted Freed to be sitting on his lap.

Freed flinched as a bone shifted in his wrist. "Laxus!"

"Oh, you can get your hand out now."

"Thanks." He pulled the fingers out and shook loose his aching hand.

"I don't want to break your wrist. You have a fencing match coming up after January, right?" Freed nodded, happy that Laxus remembered. "So I have to take care of these hands." He grabbed the hand into his own and massaged the strain. "Nice long fingers." He saw lube covering them, as well as that tiny bit of brown from earlier. "_Dirty_ fingers, now."

Freed moaned with embarrassment. He was dirty! And it felt good!

Laxus reached over to the nightstand, yanked a tissue out of a box, and wiped the fingers clean. He smiled at Freed as he cleaned the filth he made him touch. Freed's eyes turned aside bashfully, feeling giddy that Laxus was caring for him. The tissue was dropped to the floor, then Laxus raised Freed's hand and kissed the underside of his wrist, right where it was most sensitive. He could feel the flinch in Freed's body tighten around his cock, and his blue eyes gleamed up mischievously. Softly, he nipped the wrist with his teeth, giving Freed a possessive love bite, right there on the wrist. Freed's mouth dropped open like he wanted to speak, but nothing except a soft moan came out.

What an incredible man!

"Come on, lap dance." Laxus traced his finger around the edge of the slave collar. "Dance for me."

Dance… Dance? Freed had been raised to attend grand balls and galas, taught the waltz, tango, and ballroom dancing, years of dancing lessons so he would not humiliate the Justine family at parties. Oh, he could certainly dance! But he never thought he would give someone a lap dance. Not even his private fantasies were that daring.

"I, um," and he laughed nervously. "I don't know what to do."

"Move your damn hips!" Laxus snapped, too horny to be patient.

"Um, like this?" He slowly swiveled left and right. How did Laxus do this?

"Come on, do I have to put on some music? Hold on a sec." He leaned back, shifting Freed with the cock still inside of him. Laxus reached over to the nightstand and got his cellphone. He flipped through songs, then paused. "Heh, can't believe I've got this song on here. This is probably a weird song but, uh … maybe you'll like it."

A soft arpeggio of notes started up, just guitars, a light and airy feel, and Laxus set his cellphone back down, letting the music play.

Freed was not familiar with the tune right away. "Um, do I know this song?"

"Probably not," Laxus shrugged as a female began to sing soft, breathy lyrics. "Just sway."

"Okay … um, like this?" In time to the slow song, Freed swiveled his hips, swaying on top and feeling that cock move inside.

"Yeah. Sway." He saw Freed shudder from the movement within, and he felt those hips moving him, swiveling and driving his cock in just a little deeper as Freed began to relax. "Just like that."

As Freed swayed to the music, Laxus gazed up at him and sang to him.

_"Oh your face when you laugh.  
All my worries fade.  
You can grab me by my jeans.  
Pull and take what you want of me."_

Truly, when he was with Freed, all of his worries melted. He would give this man every bit of pleasure he wanted, anything at all. _Everything!_ Because Freed had given him a true meaning to his dismal life. He had broken into a heart that had never known sensual love, roused a desire that he thought he did not even possess, and now Freed had changed him fully.

Gone was Thor the Stripper. Now he was just Laxus Dreyar.

For the first time in years, perhaps the first time since his mother died, he could be fully himself in front of someone, and he did not have to worry about being scolded, laughed at, or anything. It was just him and Freed, and Freed accepted everything about him, even the tenderness that hid deep inside.

"That's good. Just like that," Laxus encouraged as the song soared louder, a cymbal crashed, and Freed began to get into the music, caressing Laxus' shoulders with his hands and swaying with his whole body, truly giving a lap dance. Granted, it was a slow song, but it somehow fit Freed.

"It's kinda fun," he admitted awkwardly.

Laxus grinned at that adorable blush. "It should be."

Freed found himself really swaying to the music, swiveling his hips, rising up a little just to slide back down, far deeper than he could earlier when he was tense and nervous. It surprised him how this simple thing banished his apprehension. Like this, they were equals. Well, almost. He was still wearing a collar and being ordered to dance, but face to face, noses sometimes touching, lips occasionally brushing together, he felt like Laxus was less _thunder god_ and more _mortal human_. He was not Thor, just Laxus. Although Freed liked when Laxus was rough with him and humiliated him, like this was rather nice once in a while, too.

"Laxus?" he asked, since he felt confidence returning, and something had been bothering him all afternoon. "Um, about the strip club. Are you sure about that? I mean, are you gonna miss it?"

"Hell no," he whispered. "I only dance for you—" He grabbed Freed's hips. "—and you only dance like this for me."

Exclusiveness! It made Freed smile happily, and he whispered, "Okay."

Laxus saw the hidden joy. Really, he should have quit that damn club ages ago, as soon as he realized how precious Freed was to him. Bob had been telling him since the Halloween fencing match, when the television camera had broadcast the image of Laxus watching Freed fight. That bald bartender with too much makeup kept urging Laxus to quit strip dancing and grab hold of Freed, never let him go, and to stop putting this special bond they had in danger. Bob was seriously a romantic! However, stubbornness and a lack of confidence—unsure if Freed felt as strongly about this relationship as he did—kept Laxus chained to the stage and blinding spotlight. Now, his world was softer, less isolated, and the light was only the gleam in those long-lashed turquoise-green eyes.

Laxus felt flustered as he suddenly realized, this was the first time someone else had given _him_ a lap dance.

"It's not the best song to dance by, is it?" he muttered.

"Just slow like this is nice, though," Freed smiled, swaying more.

Laxus suddenly flopped backwards and landed on the pillows. "Are you ready?"

Freed felt calm and confident. He wanted to pleasure Laxus with the same sort of intense pleasure as he had received many times now. He nodded firmly. "Yeah."

"Okay, just keep touching inside. Slip it in again."

"All right." With Laxus lying back, Freed could reach behind him, and Laxus spread his thighs for him to reach far enough. "Like this?" He slid one finger inside, still slick within, and Laxus was less tight this time.

"Nnngh!" Seriously, he would never get used to this pleasure! "Okay. And just go for it."

Gazing down into those blue eyes, Freed lifted his hips, then slid down. The depth he could reach at this angle was shocking, and he moaned instantly.

"Like that," Laxus said in approval. As he bit his lip, Freed turned his head aside, but Laxus yanked it back. "Let me watch you."

Freed slowly undulated his hips, riding on top, letting himself glide down onto that cock. Having that bit of control, showing Laxus how he liked it, taking pleasure … pleasuring himself … it was incredible, and it was making him desperate. He reached for himself, but before he could give a stroke to his own painful erection, Laxus snatched away his hand.

"Don't touch yourself."

Freed gasped and wanted to protest.

"Not yet. I'll do it when I see it's time."

"Laxus…"

He smirked arrogantly. "What?"

"I _need_ it," he begged. His cock was burning with the desire to be touched.

"Not yet. I know how you are. You'd come in two seconds." He relaxed back onto the fluffy pillows and smiled up at Freed. "Keep riding me."

Freed obeyed, sliding down, pulling back up, feeling himself getting impaled over and over again. He could barely stand looking down and seeing the hazy pleasure in Laxus' eyes. He whimpered, "It feels good."

"Of course it does," he said arrogantly. "It's _my_ cock you're bouncing on."

Freed thrust down and felt that length filling him more and more, all the way in, until his butt was flush against Laxus' crotch. "It's … deeper. It gets in deeper."

Damn, those whimpers were driving him crazy! "You really like this, huh?"

"Mm-hmm," he nodded vigorously.

"Good." Suddenly, Laxus let out a moan. He was trying to hold back, but having Freed do the work and watching him—oh God, just _watching_ him—was too much. He hissed as the pleasure shivered down to his toes. His balls were already drawing up. "You're making me come undone."

Freed felt the need to grab himself again, just some friction, enough to ease the burning tingle, but that massive hand grabbed his wrist again. "Laxus, please. Please!"

"No, not yet. Almost. Come on. You got to dance more for me if you want it."

Whining, Freed sped up, bobbing up and down, hoping that if he went faster, maybe Laxus would finally touch him.

"Almost," Laxus whispered, but he felt shivering deep inside him. "Shit, almost! Come on. The faster you do it for me, the faster you get it."

Desperate for touching, Freed thrust himself up and down quicker, until his green hair was flipping down into his face, curtaining the flushed cheeks.

"That's it. That's … it. Oh God, yes," he hissed, trembling as Freed's ass tightened. "Squeeze like that."

"Like this?" Freed tightened in twitching pulses.

That completely pushed Laxus over the brink of keeping aloof. "Oh God!" he roared. He released Freed's wrist and grabbed that needy cock, stroking it rapidly. Freed's spine arched backwards with the pleasure of finally getting touched. "See? You do good, you get touched."

"Nnngh!" It was almost too much, and Freed shook his head, straining to hold back.

Laxus felt a bubble of pleasure growing within him, swelling, surging, aching to explode. "Keep going and don't you dare stop."

Freed thrust on him, rocking his hips, feeling that cock gliding in quicker. Then suddenly those powerful hips began to thrust up, meeting him, driving in harder. "Laxus…" he cried out, beginning to blank out to the pleasure.

"I'm gonna claim you." He sneered, wanting this man so much, nothing could be enough. Biting, sucking, marking his skin… "Claim you," he hissed. How could he claim him strongly enough? There was no way. "Claim … you…" There was only this, and hopefully this was enough, because he was at his limits. "Ahh! _F-fuck!_"

Laxus slammed his hips up hard, shivering and grunting tensely as that bubble of pleasure burst and everything rushed out, all at once, an eruption of ecstasy. Freed gasped in surprise as he felt the pressure filling him, dripping out, and running back down his spread thighs. He looked down and saw the intense euphoria on Laxus' face.

"Keep touching, please!" he screamed, so ready and wanting to share in this.

Laxus was still on his high, but he blindly grabbed Freed's cock and pumped it. "Like that?"

Freed felt spasms squeezing, tighter and tighter, and a rushing feeling, like his whole soul was stampeding over a cliff and ready to plummet him into Hell. A spiraling moan jolted up and out of his throat until everything vanished, he could not hear anything but his racing heart thrumming through his ears, and he felt only pleasure, so intense, so wonderful, nothing else in the world mattered.

Laxus watched with amazement as Freed's spine bowed backwards and his mouth opened wide in a cry as he came. He shot out onto Laxus' chest and dripped thickly down his wrist, moaning loudly with jolt after jolt of pleasure. Laxus stroked him slowly, watching Freed panting, shuddering, and milking that pleasure for as long as he could, until Freed shook his head when the sensitivity became too much.

Slowly, he sank, an angel with broken wings, given flight for a few minutes only to drift delicately back to earth. Laxus watched it all, how seraphic Freed looked when he was like this. It was the closest thing to a _religious experience_ as he had ever personally witnessed.

"Goddammit, I love you," he whispered in awe.

Those weary eyes slowly opened, drained and mutely thankful. Laxus gazed at him, stunned that this green angel somehow blessed a sinner like him. He looked aside, realizing he was thinking weird things again, and laughed at his own strange thoughts. He was crazy, for certain. Crazy and in love. And it was all Freed's fault!

"I really do love you," he repeated with a soft, exhausted sigh. "You okay?"

"Mm-hmm," Freed hummed sleepily.

"You made a real mess on me."

Freed gazed down and saw the splattered cum dripping thickly along Laxus' torso. He blushed at seeing the mess. "O-oh. Sorry."

Even after making love, Freed could act so cutely bashful, and that amused Laxus to no end. "Come on. Up." He helped Freed by picking up his hips and shifting him up off the defeated cock.

As the flared head slipped out, Freed flinched. "Ah, ouch!"

Laxus saw that was more than just sensual pain. Freed looked like it truly hurt. "You okay?" he again asked.

"Yeah, it's just kinda … uh, _deeper_ than I'm used to." He was also still sore from pulling the butt plug out so quickly. It burned slightly now that his hormones were not masking the pain, and Freed wondered if perhaps he accidentally tore himself a little. He looked down, but he saw no blood on Laxus' penis, only lube and a little bit of cum that came out. "W-was that okay?" he asked timidly.

Laxus arched his eyebrows up. "What do _you_ think?" he exclaimed. Shit, was it _okay_? It was a hell of a lot more than merely _okay_. It was fucking awesome!

Freed laughed softly to himself. "I just want to know if you liked it."

"Of course I did. I want to do it again."

He choked up in shock and cried out in a panic, "Now?"

"No! Not now. Another time."

Laxus was way too exhausted for the moment. Maybe he was not doing the work this time, but that was incredibly intense on an emotional level. He felt uttered sated. He closed his eyes in exhaustion and yanked Freed down into his arms, having him curl up beside him.

Laxus chuckled with sleepy happiness. "You were so sexy, riding on top of me. I mean seriously, I just wanted to grab your hair and say _giddy up_."

Freed propped up on an elbow and gazed down playfully at him. "Isn't that my line?"

_Brat!_ "Shut up."

He lightly bit on the tip of his tongue and purred, "You're my pony."

Laxus burst out in laughter. Seriously, this little mouse had a mouth on him! "Shut up," he chuckled. He yanked Freed back up to _ride_ him and snarled lustfully, "I'm gonna buck you like a wild bronco." His hips snapped up.

"Ow!" Freed cried out, bruised down there. "Okay don't, don't." He climbed off slowly and settled back down beside Laxus.

"Sorry." He stroked through the messy green hair that now stood out everywhere. "Sore?" he asked in concern.

Freed wanted to assure him he was fine, but just then Laxus' hand drifted to his ass to feel. "Nngh!" It hurt! He was glad he had also packed away some medicine.

"Sorry," Laxus whispered. He kissed him on the forehead in apology. "Let's get cleaned up. But," he smirked, "we got this hotel all night, and by the end of this night, I don't want you to be able to walk." He grinned slyly at the ideas he had forming in his head already. First, dinner. Then, one fuckingly delicious dessert! He wanted Freed to limp. He wanted him to scream and shiver and whimper for his master. Oh God, he wanted this man! "I'll have to carry you back."

Freed made a weak noise. Carried back? Across the university? A man of his age, a business major and son of a wealthy family, carried like a princess across the campus? The humiliation tingled his nerves, and the pain eased away.

"That would be embarrassing, wouldn't it?" Laxus egged on, knowing Freed's imagination must be raging right now.

"Mm-hmm," he whimpered. It would be utterly mortifying. Carried back, and the whole dorm would see. No, the whole campus! Laxus probably would do it, too, just to shame him publicly. That made his heart race even faster, knowing the threat very likely _would _be carried out.

"Good." Laxus grabbed the collar ring with one finger and yanked Freed up against him. "I'm gonna make sure you can't walk."

He blushed and protested bashfully, "I have classes tomorrow."

"I'll carry you to class."

Even worse! His classmates, his group partners, his professors! "Laxus…" he whispered. That was going way too far.

"You think I'm joking?" he said with an edge of seriousness to his voice. "I'll carry you, and I'll take care of you." He stroked back his messy hair. "But you gotta take care of me," he demanded.

Taking care of each other. Maybe Laxus liked to tease him—he sure hoped this was just teasing—but being there for one another, caring for each other, having one another's backs … that was sweet. Freed nodded at the promise. "Right."

"Good." Laxus leaned over to give Freed a gentle kiss. Turquoise eyes met electric blue, and for a moment that was all that existed, just them and this love. Then Laxus blushed and looked aside. He tried to act gruff again. "Okay, your cum is drying on my chest. It feels gross. Let's go." He yanked away and began to walk toward the restroom.

Freed laughed as he saw both sides to Laxus, the sadist and the romantic. He decided that he loved everything about him, no matter which way he acted. Everything!

As he watched his lover leave to the restroom, Freed had to admit again, this time silently to himself … Laxus really did have one _damn_ sexy ass!

**Next Chapter: ****An Awkward Family Reunion**

* * *

_A/N: Laxus plays "Everything + Everywhere" by The Butchies, a lesbian queercore band from back in 2004._

_A huge thanks to the volunteer on "Rhov Anion's Minions" who typed the dialogue for me while I deal with my injured wrist. 20 pages of dialogue! You are awesome! If anyone wants to hear how I make up these chapters (I seriously just ad lib this stuff with no clue how it'll turn out) I posted the audio on Chirbit. Beware: it's sexy, haha!  
**chirb. it/m9tIN7**_


	19. An Awkward Family Reunion

Chapter 19

**An Awkward Family Reunion  
**

Laxus looked up at a house with marble columns, sculpted hedges, where limousines were pulling up behind him and the music from a string quartet played somewhere within. The door he faced had what was easily the largest wreath he had ever seen outside of mall displays. The whole house had been decked out, nothing gaudy, but gleaming Christmas lights lit up each tree along the poplar-lined drive all the way up the private road to the mansion, with a circular driveway and a fountain in the center glowing with red and green lights.

He looked down at his suit. Freed had bought it for him, claiming it was merely another "Hanukkah gift." Laxus regretted telling him about that, because it gave Freed eight days of excuses to buy things for Laxus, things he had always wanted to get but felt too awkward to give as presents without a good reason.

So here he was, wearing some over-priced, tailor-made suit with patent leather shoes that probably cost as much as his rent. Laxus had slicked his hair back, but it still spiked out no matter how he tried to comb it. He felt ridiculous wearing clothes like this, but as he faced this house that loomed like some giant monster ready to swallow him, he was glad he at least was dressed in the right "armor."

Freed looked completely stunning, of course. He wore a burgundy suit coat buttoned up, his white dress shirt showing underneath, and a bow tie knotted perfectly. He had tied his long green hair back, with only the bangs draping down, covering one side of his face like usual. Maybe it was the Christmas lights, but his turquoise eyes gleamed brighter tonight. His face showed a complex mix of happiness at coming back home for the holidays as well as hesitancy about facing his parents with his boyfriend.

Deep down inside, Freed was aware that his parents already knew Laxus, and in one of the most intimate ways. That made this meeting even more awkward. It had to be done on Christmas, when his parents hosted a massive party for coworkers, clients, and contributors to their various charities. They would be restrained by social rules, forced through propriety to keep smiling, and greet their _guest_ with politeness. Any other day and it would almost assuredly lead to an argument. He was gambling on his parents' steep sense of keeping up public appearances. For any other family, this sort of sudden reveal would utterly ruin the holiday.

Although he fully believed that his parents would behave themselves around Laxus, despite knowing who he was and what he used to do, his heart was still racing. He had been sweating all day, terrified at the prospect of an all-out fight with his parents.

Best case scenario: his parents accepted that Laxus had left behind his old life in order to make Freed truly happy and warmly accepted him.

Worst case scenario: either flat out disowning Freed, telling him he was no longer their son, cutting off from all funds, financial abandonment, and they would be escorted off the property with an order never to come home again; or they had security drag Laxus away while locking Freed up in a room to separate the two of them, pull Freed out of college, possibly dig up enough dirt on Laxus to have him arrested while safeguarding their own involvement with him, all so they could guarantee the two never met again.

That was a hell of a worst case scenario, and it scared the crap out of Freed.

Laxus glanced down quietly. He had seen Freed's nervousness in the car, tapping his fingers on the wheel, driving extra slow, and not just to appeal to Laxus' carsickness. He had frequently asked Laxus if he just wanted to skip the party. Laxus knew it was Freed himself chickening out, so he kept saying he wanted to go. They needed to get this over with, no matter the outcome. They both agreed, Christmas was the ideal time. If it worked out, the party would be great. If there was trouble, they could slip away from his parents and go to another part of the house, schmoozing with friends, and hopefully escape an all-out altercation. If things truly exploded, they could leave, simple as that.

And if it utterly went to hell … Laxus had brass knuckles hidden in an inner jacket pocket. He was prepared to fight for his lover.

Laxus was not about to leave this mansion without Freed. He already warned Freed, if his parents did something stupid, like hit Freed or demand he stay home while sending Laxus away, he was ready to fight any lame security guards, anything at all, to make sure Freed went home with him. The blush of happiness when he declared that showed that Freed wanted to spend this whole night with Laxus, no matter what happened with his parents.

For now, Freed was nervous, staring at the door, clenching his hand and releasing it over and over. Laxus was getting impatient just standing there.

"What's the matter?" he snapped.

Freed licked his lip. "I've never been nervous coming back home," he admitted.

Laxus eyed the door, the Romanesque columns, the massive fountain, and the limos of the many distinguished guests. "With a house like this, I'd be nervous every day."

Freed had to smile at that reminder of the difference between their worlds. "I grew up here, so I'm used to it, I guess."

"Well, if you don't knock, I will."

Freed jolted out of his trance. "N-no, I will." It was his own house, after all. He could at least knock. He lifted his hand and looked at the lion-headed door knocker. He took a deep breath and let it out. "Here we go." He lifted to brass knocker and tapped it to the door softly.

Laxus rolled his eyes. "Oh, fuck that!" His heavy fist pounded into the door, reverberating through the whole entryway.

Freed jolted and looked over in horror. "Laxus!"

Those blue eyes gazed down scathingly. "What?" he growled.

Freed cringed and looked away. "Nothing." Maybe that was how people knocked on doors in the city, but he knew his soft knock would have been more than enough. The butler had likely already seen them on the video feed coming from the security camera overlooking the entryway.

Sure enough, the door opened immediately with a heavy creak of solid oak. A tall, stiff man in a dutiful tuxedo stood at the ready.

"Master Freed," he greeted with a bow.

Laxus hissed under his breath, "Master?"

Freed tapped his arm to get him to be quiet. "It's just a title," he explained in a whisper.

Laxus grumbled back, "Yeah, whatever."

Freed hoped he could behave before they even entered the house. "Um … Hi, Bas. Merry Christmas."

The servant smiled and tipped his head cordially. "Of course, Master." He eyed the blond with a stern gaze. "And _this_ is?"

"O-oh! Um … this is … uh…" Freed looked to Laxus for help. He remembered when they first met, Laxus hated giving out his real name. He had made Freed wait until their third date before even giving him his last name. He had no clue how Laxus felt about his private information leaking out now, especially since his father had once been a client.

Laxus seemed to understand the hesitation, and he was happy that Freed did not just blurt it out. However, he was here to meet his boyfriend's family. They should meet him for who he really was. Besides, it wasn't like he could go by _Thor_ in this situation.

"Laxus," he told the butler.

The butler's eyes widened. "L-Laxus?" However, his duty was not to question this shocking revelation. "Of course … ahem … I shall introduce you."

They stepped through the door and into a vestibule where their thick winter outercoats and scarves were removed by maids in a feminine style of tuxedo. Laxus was slightly disappointed to see that the Justines did not use French maid outfits. He would have loved to steal one and make Freed wear it.

"Are Mother and Father here?" Freed asked as he followed the butler through a corridor where a few guests had slipped out to get fresh air away from the main party.

"They've already arrived," Bas informed him.

Laxus leaned into Freed's ear. "Arrived? Don't they _live_ here?"

Freed gave a slight shrug. "Sometimes."

"What do you mean, sometimes?" Laxus decided not to pursue it. "Weird family," he muttered to himself.

Bas opened two doors, and they stepped out onto a balcony. The room was massive, soaring two floors of the house, the dancing down below in a ballroom, then the upper floor encircling in a mezzanine lined by a gleaming white marble balustrade.

Laxus leaned over to Freed. "Weren't we on the ground floor?"

He leaned over as well and whispered, "The land slopes here. The west side of the house is one story deeper than the east side. Look at the windows," he said, nodding to the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the western wall. "It's dark out, you can't see it, but those sparkling lights are the city below."

"The houses on the hill," Laxus muttered. As a child, he used to gaze up at the hill above Magnolia and admire those mansions. Now, he was standing in one.

Bas intoned in a deep and resonating voice, "Master Freed has arrived." Then he bowed and stepped aside.

"Master," Laxus grumbled again.

"Laxus, quiet!" Freed warned, sounding serious.

"It's just weird hearing him call _you_ master."

Freed smirked. "What? Are you the only one who gets to be called master?" He leaned forward deviously. "Or are you afraid that I'm going to make you call _me_ master some day?"

Laxus knew he was joking. Still … "Fuck you," he grumbled.

"Quiet," Freed softly warned.

"Go to hell," Laxus said with a glare.

Freed chuckled, and he stepped toward the stairs, giving a bow to the crowd.

People down in the ballroom gazed up as the heir to the mansion strode with graceful steps, alighting down the sweeping staircase with such a genteel gait, it was like he was floating. Behind him plodded someone who most assumed was merely a bodyguard, given the sheer size of the man. They turned and resumed their conversations.

Suddenly, a graceful woman in a green gown that matched her emerald hair came forward and gave Freed a warm hug. "Oh, honey!" she said with motherly affection. "I … o-oh!" Her eyes widened in a moment of horror as she saw the man behind her son. She stared, face twitching, but she forced herself to smile. "Who's your … friend?"

Freed realized right away, his mother had recognized the former sadist-for-hire. This introduction had to be pulled off as naturally as possible. "Mom, this is Laxus Dreyar."

She tried hard to smile, but her lips kept twitching. "L-Laxus? W-well." She laughed awkwardly. "Uh … um … well, my name is Liberty." Delayed by shock, she thrust her hand out, took his in a delicate hold, and curtsied with utmost propriety.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," Laxus said in as polite of a tone as he could muster.

"Uh … y-yes." She looked around at the crowd with a flustered nervousness, as if anyone might also recognize him and wonder why this man was in her house. Instead, she snagged the true master of the house and yanked him over like a shield. "This is my husband, Llewellyn. Dear, this is our son's _friend_, Laxus Dreyar." She quickly whispered something into his ear just as the man's eyes widened at seeing his former dominant standing in front of him. Whatever she said, he calmed down, or at least he put up a mask of civility.

"Ah. Welcome … Mister Dreyar, was it?" he asked, much better at keeping up appearances than his frittering wife.

"Yes, sir." Laxus' face gave away nothing at all.

"Nice to meet you … Mr. Dreyar." He stretched his hand out to shake, but when Laxus took the palm, those fingers were trembling. He was good at keeping things under control, but Llewellyn Justine was obviously overwhelmed by a chance to touch him again.

Laxus just barely managed to keep his eyes from rolling as he quietly intoned, "Same here, sir."

Freed broke the tension by exclaiming, "Father! What happened to your nose?"

The businessman lightly touched the bruising that copious amounts of makeup only slightly hid. "Oh, you know how it is. Playing a hard game, took a chance swing…" His eyes drifted up to Laxus. "Backfired and got hit."

Laxus just stared at him. Most of the bruising was gone by now. The makeup did a good job at covering some of the damage, but anyone who knew Llewellyn well would see that his nose was slightly crooked.

"Wow, looks pretty bad," Freed said in concern. "Did it break?"

Llewellyn waved it off. "I know a good plastic surgeon. He'll fix it right up after the new year."

Laxus kept his face impassive. "That's too bad, sir."

Llewellyn gazed up, mournful but hiding his emotions with professional composure. "Yes … it is."

Freed glanced between the two. The atmosphere was thick. If this continued, someone was going to notice and wonder. He scanned the party and suddenly caught sight of a good distraction. "Oh! There she is." With a nod to his parents, he yanked Laxus aside. "Here's my sister, Everg- … who the hell is that?" he whispered in astonishment at the behemoth beside his brunette sister.

"What?" she asked with her mouth full of _hors d'oeuvre_. "Oh, it's just you, Freed." She realized he was staring at the huge man. "Hehe, yep! This is my boyfriend," she said in a chirpy tone. She yanked the massive man away from the shrimp cocktails. "Get over here, Elfman. Stop pigging out."

His mouth was full as he stated, "This is good food."

She gave a sigh and let him go back to eating. "He's a bit of a brute but…" She grabbed Freed's sleeve and yanked him in excitedly. "Look at his _muscles_!" she quietly squealed. "Oh my goodness, he's so … oh!" She suddenly caught sight of Laxus. She grinned, cocking an eyebrow up with interest. "Hello, who's this?"

"Hey! Mine!" Freed snapped possessively. "Back off, sis."

"Oh darn," she mumbled. The cute ones were always gay! However, a perfect smile was instantly on her lips. "Hello," she greeted with a high-society titter that was precisely like her mother's. "I'm Evergreen." She presented her hand out, wrist limp, a feminine gesture she had learned.

The blond took the hand, dipped over it, but did not kiss the fingers. "Laxus," he greeted.

Freed was amazed that Laxus knew these little tricks people did at parties like this. Maybe he had seen enough movies to get the gist of proper behavior. Or could it be his mother taught him some rules of etiquette in his youth?

"Laxus," she said, considering his name as well as his physique and finding both to be unique and pleasant. "Nice. Oh, uh, and this is Elfman Strauss."

Elfman waved again, his mouth full of shrimp and sauce. Laxus drifted over to the food table to eat some of what this large man was having. If it was good enough for him, it should be edible for anyone. While the two brawny men talked, Evergreen leaned over to her big brother and said in a playful singsong.

"Mine has bigger muscles than yours does!"

Freed rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on! This is _not_ a competition."

"Of course it is," she smirked. "Yours isn't half bad, though."

"Yeah, yours looks … better than the last one," Freed said hesitantly.

She waved that off. "Oh, shush."

Freed scanned the crowd. "Where's Bickslow?"

She scoffed softly. "Like I know! He's off playing with his _dolls_ or something."

Freed rubbed out tension between his brow. "Oh God, not those!"

Just then Laxus came up to the siblings holding a cracker with some unnameable mixture on it. "Dolls?"

Freed shook his head. "You don't want to know."

For once, Evergreen fulled agreed with him. "No, you _don't_ want to know," she said with a high, grating voice, stiffening at the embarrassment of having a brother like him. She gave out a sigh, just glad that Bickslow was not totally ruining the party this time.

Laxus ate his cracker in one bite and folded his arms. "Oh, gimme a break. What is it, sex dolls?

Evergreen almost screamed but choke up. Freed turned aside with a blush.

Laxus realized, he stepped on a land mine. "Oh great…" he moaned.

Evergreen struggled to speak, but finally she gave up, grinning to overcompensate for her blathering. "Ah … E-Elfman, um … let's … uh … well … Oh! I … I see someone over here." She laughed and waved a cute farewell. "Bye!" Then she yanked Elfman with her over to some younger members of the crowd.

Laxus and Freed stood by one another with the guests all around, chatting and oblivious to what just happened.

Laxus quietly realized, "I really walked into that one."

"Y-yeah," Freed admitted. It was less of _walking into it_ and more like crashing through with a spiked bludgeon.

"Ooookay," he whispered, looking around at all the hobnobbing. "Your family is officially weird."

Freed shrugged faintly. "Yeah." Despite their status, they had their issues.

"They're not bad, though," Laxus decided. "Your sister seems friendly."

Freed's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, she's friendly … _too_ friendly." He saw that Laxus did not catch what he was implying, so he leaned up to his ear and covered his mouth with his hand. "She was _staring_ at you."

"Yeah, so? I'm a lot to look at."

"Oh, don't get cocky!"

Laxus chuckled at his jealousy and possessiveness.

They walked around, Freed waved to a few people, but no one came directly up to him. Frankly, he was glad. He never felt fully comfortable amongst his parents' friends, colleagues, and business partners, as well as people hoping to win favors from the Justine family. Finally, they were alone again, watching dancers but standing to the side.

"So, meeting my folks," Freed whispered, easily spotting his mother dancing with a well-known venture capitalist while his father chatted up an elderly local politician. "Was that just weird?"

Laxus had hoped not to say anything yet. "Che! I'll be honest. Yeah," he confessed. Awkward … as … hell! Still, the meeting went as smoothly as he could hope for.

"At least they behaved themselves." He spared a look up and saw Laxus staring in the direction of Llewellyn. "Um … what did you say to them … you know, when…?" He could not think of any delicate way to say it. "I mean, they know you're no longer … taking … clients. Right?"

Laxus patted his shoulder. "Freed, they were the first ones to know."

"Really!" he cried out. Laxus called up his parents first? He supposed that showed how much honor Laxus felt toward his mother and father. "So they know?"

"Yep."

"Maybe that's why Father gave you that look. I'm sure he was disappointed."

Laxus peered back over toward Llewellyn. "Yeah … he was," he muttered, thinking of the irony.

Freed heard more than Laxus was willing to say. "What, did he make you an offer? Stay on and I'll pay you triple?" As he chuckled, he saw Laxus' eyes dart to the side. His heart immediately sank. "Oh God, he did." He felt his stomach turn sour as he realized an offer like that showed just how much his father had wanted him … wanted _his_ boyfriend!

"Hey." Behind his back, out of sight of everyone, his large hand slipped over and rubbed up Freed's spine, hoping to soothe his worries. "It's over, okay?" he whispered with sweet tenderness. Those low rumbles made Freed smile immediately, and Laxus loved to see the relief in his face. "Only you now." Only this man! Only him! His fingers traced along Freed's spine, sending jolts along his nerve. "That life, it's all over, so—"

"_**BABIES!**_"

Laxus jolted and almost grabbed Freed to protect him. "What the hell?"

A tall man ran forward, flying down the stairs and weaving through the crowd, barreling toward them. He grabbed Freed into his arms and crushed him into a hug. The man squeezed and shook Freed back and forth in happiness.

"B-Bickslow! Settle down." Freed could barely breathe as his brother smothered him.

"_Babiiiiiiiies!_" the man yelled.

Freed finally pried the arms off. "Yes, babies," he chuckled awkwardly, hoping not too many people were staring. Unfortunately, they all were. As Bickslow stepped back, Freed waved his hand across his nose and whispered, "Oh God, you reek of marijuana!"

He cleared his throat and snapped a finger to Bas with a sharp point toward his younger brother. The butler nodded. They were prepared for situations like this. Bickslow had to be aired out and sobered up. While Bas hurried off, Freed decided he absolutely had to keep his brother away from the guests. Introductions!

"L-Laxus, this is my brother, Bickslow. Bickslow, this—"

Without waiting, the man turned and grinned with his tongue lolling out. "Hi!" he cried out loudly. "Are you my brother's boy-toy?"

Freed slapped his palm to his face. Oh, he just _had_ to put it that way!

Laxus merely looked amused. "Other way around. He's mine to play with."

"Laxus!" Freed moaned under his breath. These two together were instant disaster.

"Cool!" smiled Bickslow.

Freed looked at Bickslow, who had the glazed look and widened pupils of being high in his eyes; then he glanced to Laxus, who was holding back a smile. "Riiiiight," he muttered. He saw Evergreen completely ignoring the scene, pretending she was not at all aware of the situation. Bratty sister! "Hey, uh … Evergreen's got some candy for you."

"Candy? Gimme!"

Bickslow rushed off and collided into his sister, hanging onto her and almost slobbering with his tongue hanging out, demanding candy. Evergreen had a moment of panic. The glare she shot at Freed could have turned any normal person to stone, but Freed was used to her scathing annoyance.

Laxus eyed the siblings for a moment longer. "Okay, he is stoned, drunk, and totally sexed up."

Freed gave an apologetic shrug. "That's about right for Bickslow."

Laxus nodded slowly. "I like him."

That made Freed laugh. "Yeah, you would," he muttered. "So, you just met the entire family."

"Not bad." It was refreshing to know there was a weirdo in every household. It made the Justines more down-to-earth than his worries had built them up to be. "So, what else do we do at this party?"

Freed shrugged. "We eat."

They were standing by a table, so Laxus eyed the numerous dishes. "I don't even know what this crap is."

Freed sympathized, but it was still amusing. Laxus really did look out of place here. "How about I get you a drink?"

He groaned. Yes! Alcohol! "I could really use it."

"Be right back." He walked over to a table where a bartender was attending to the many guests seeking out the Justine's famous wine collection. However, they had a whole wet bar full of different spirits. Freed hoped they had something Laxus would like.

The blond listened to the music. At least that was pleasant, a string quartet playing Dmitri Shostakovich's _The Second Waltz_, something uplifting and playful, not as stodgy as other composers. Laxus thought it might be nice to stand by them, let the musicians know they were appreciated. However, before he could take more than two steps, someone came up beside him.

"Thor?"

Without turning around, Laxus' voice dropped to a growl. "I'm _not_ Thor." He glared around and stared hard at Llewellyn Justine. Of course this man waited until he was alone to confront him.

Llewellyn gave a tiny pout. "Laxus, was it?"

He gazed cautiously. "That's right … _Mister_ Justine."

His words were always cold, but this time there was harshness to his voice. Llewellyn raised his head, keeping a dignified visage that Laxus almost never saw in their sadomasochistic playtime. "Look, about that day. I apologize," he said formally.

"Good," Laxus said curtly.

Llewellyn's composure was being put to the test. He glanced around. Although no one was watching him directly, he knew parties like this. No one stared, but everyone was passively watching. He dropped his voice as low as possible without being drowned out by the buzz. "I just need to know that you're not hurting my boy."

Laxus gave a closed-lip chuckle. "Definitely not, sir." He glanced at the alcohol table, where Freed was trying to place his order and apparently having issues.

Llewellyn followed his gaze. His son truly had grown up. "He looks well."

"He should. I've been taking care of him, making sure he eats. You should have seen the crap in his dorm fridge. I demanded that he get _real_ food." Laxus watched as the man's eyes dropped in conflicted emotions. How must this be, for a father to lose a wanted male lover to the son he never fully accepted as being gay?

"It must have been awkward, finding out who he was." It was certainly awkward for Llewellyn to find out his dominant was also his son's boyfriend.

Laxus rolled his eyes. "That's an understatement." Awkward? He still had a sick feeling in his stomach when he remembered how he almost lost Freed that day.

"He … knows?"

Laxus hesitated. It might be easier to lie, but this man deserved the truth. For being one of his best clients, for behaving himself up until the very last day, for years of good pay and good drinks, he deserved the truth.

"Yeah, he knows. We kind of figured it out together."

Llewellyn's body stiffened ever so slightly. "So he knows about _me_, hmm?"

Laxus saw the fear and sadness twitching the man's face, but never breaking through to the surface. What must this be like as a father, to find out that your son knows your darkest, kinkiest secret? Laxus was not close to his family anymore; his grandfather rarely spoke to him, his father was missing and on the run, his mother was dead, and he had no siblings. He tried to imagine it, though. What if his mother was alive? What if she suddenly found out what Laxus did for a living? How embarrassing would it be for him? Llewellyn was keeping his emotions under control, but just barely.

"He's a lot like you, sir," Laxus said in a casual tone, but he realized the sudden surge in music as the string players crescendoed to a forte gave them some more privacy. He leaned into Llewellyn's ear. "Very much like you, actually: a masochist, submissive, likes some of the same kinks as you—"

"Not here," he snapped quietly, and anger flared in the man's eyes.

"Yet unlike you," Laxus pressed on, lowering his voice as the surge in music sank back down, "Freed is a perfect slave. He's the only person in the world allowed to call me _master_."

"I … I don't want to know about that!" Jealousy. Definitely this was jealousy! It had been Llewellyn's pleading and beseeching Laxus by calling him _master_ that led to his broken nose.

As a sadist, Laxus was fascinated by pushing his former submissive into such a tight corner. He would have loved to push harder, really drive this man to desperation, but he had to be kind for Freed's sake. This was Freed's family, after all. He wanted Freed to enjoy this party, not regret coming here.

"I'm saying it how it is, sir." Laxus leaned down over Llewellyn and glared at him. "So don't you dare get on his case, because morally, you're not the slightest bit above him."

Llewellyn stared hard. If this hulk of a man was into business, he would be a truly intimidating opponent. Luckily, this was not a business meeting, no stocks and bonds were in jeopardy, but something far more was in danger. Here, at this party, this sadistic man could easily bring down Llewellyn Justine in front of everyone who held him in admiration. As the magnate stared up at the former strip dancer, he realized what sort of hold this blond brute had over him. One word, or merely the wrong gesture, and his social standing would crumble in an instant.

Laxus smiled as he saw the pride in this man's face trembling and cracking. "Now, let's pretend like we don't know one another, you're a cutthroat businessman, and I … am a humble electrician."

Llewellyn jolted. "You're a _what_?"

"Well, I am now."

"I thought you…" He glanced around cautiously. "…danced."

"Not anymore," Laxus shrugged lightly. "I have to thank you, sir. You taught me a good lesson. I couldn't keep doing what I was doing and still be the type of man that Freed deserves." He gave a casual shrug. "I gave it all up. For him," he emphasized. "That's how much I love him." His blue eyes narrowed. "So don't you _dare_ get in our way. Got it?"

Llewellyn swallowed back any feelings he might have. "Understood," he said quietly.

"Good." Laxus smiled in a condescending way. Just then, he saw the green-haired man approaching. "Hey Freed," he grinned, eagerly taking a cup from him and drinking. Instead, he made a face. "Oh God, do they water this shit down?"

"Watch your language," Freed warned.

"Yeah, I forgot," Laxus grumbled. He tried to drink more and made another face. Too much tonic, not enough gin. This was a weak drink for people with weak stomachs.

Freed eyed the two with worries. It was obvious these two were in the midst of a heavy discussion. He had heard people around the room whispering about it, wondering who the handsome tall man with a scar was, why Mister Justine was so interested in him, and why the business tycoon looked so intimidated. He had heard everything from guesses that the large man was a soldier and son of some powerful politician, to worried whispers that maybe he was in the mafia and threatening extortion.

"Hey, Father," Freed greeted, his voice mumbling as he wondered what he could say.

"Hello, son," the father said stiffly. He forced an amiable smile. "How's school?"

School? Ah, of course! They had to make the appearance of normality. Of course a father would ask his son about the progress of his education. That was only natural.

"Um … good. Aced everything. I made the Dean's List for the Fall semester," he smiled, hoping that would make his father proud. "I'm still in that honor society." Nothing was working. His father still had a harsh face. "Next semester is my last, so I've already arranged which classes I need to take. Everything seems to be … going well." Was there really no way to please this man?

"That's good," Llewellyn said placidly, still keeping his emotions suppressed. "Don't slack on your studies in your final semester. You wouldn't want to get distracted by too much … entertainment."

Freed's eyes flitted between his father and his lover. Was this a hint? Did his father not approve?

Laxus stood to the side. They were garnering attention, and he knew that was bad. "Oh fuck this. You both know the truth," he whispered.

Freed jolted. Was he acting strangely? Glancing around, he saw the cliques whispering and glancing over. "Laxus," he sighed.

"I'm not going to say anything out loud, but obviously you two … you need…" Why the hell was he mediating? This was most awkward for _him_, after all. He was the stranger here. "Ya know what? Fuck this. I'm gonna go talk to your mom. You two go somewhere else and work this out. That's an order … to _both_ of you!" He stomped away, and at least half of the eyes in the crowd—especially women—followed him rather than stare at the father and son.

Freed gulped hard. He had felt protected by Laxus' mere presence. Now that was gone. He had to face his father directly. "M-maybe we could … um … talk in the parlor."

Llewellyn's face never lost its severity. "Yes, perhaps we should." He turned sharply and marched out in a stride that let others know not to come up to him and try to start small talk.

Freed sank in anguish. This was the dire moment, a confrontation between father and son over a man both had known intimately. Dragging his feet, he followed his father out of the ballroom.

* * *

Laxus weaved around the party. He knew eyes lingered on him, yet no one actually came up to him. He was glad, too. One of his fears for this party was that he might meet up with yet another rich bastard who also knew the thrill of the Thunder God's sadistic ways. Luckily, not a single person was familiar, except for a couple of people he thought he had seen on television. Were they actors? Politicians? Media moguls? He didn't know, didn't care, so long as they didn't know him.

Luckily, Liberty was in a moment of lull. She had just finished speaking to Bas about the best way to get Bickslow out of the party without attracting attention. Before she could return to gossiping with high society ladies, she found a mountain of muscles in front of her.

"Hello, ma'am," Laxus greeted.

"Uh, Thor … um, I mean … uh, what was it again?" she asked.

"Laxus," he said. After four years of knowing him as Thor, it was not all that surprising that she got his name wrong.

She nodded, trying to commit it to memory. However, the oddity of the name stunned her. "Is that your _real_ name?"

"Yes, Laxus Dreyar. I couldn't give you my real name. I'm sure you understand."

"Um, yes. Circumstance being what they were," she said with a plastered smile as she realized those curious about this tough-looking stranger were now staring at the two of them. "Um … look, uh … sorry if I might have said something inappropriate that day about you being a…" She paused to find the right word. "…a _dancer_."

He rolled his eyes. That life was behind him now, but he figured it would haunt him for a while longer. "I'm not anymore, if that's of any consideration for me being accepted at this _wonderful_ party of yours." His words were tight, feeling anything but _accepted_ amidst the posh surroundings.

Liberty looked stunned. "Wait, you _quit_?" she asked a little too loudly.

"Yes. Freed didn't like it, and I like Freed."

"Oh," she said, considering this carefully. "It must have been a lucrative job, though … considering what we paid," she added quietly. She had been the one who handled paying Laxus for his services. She knew just how expensive his time was.

"I won't lie. Yeah, it was," he had to admit. His new job paid him weekly, but it was only a fraction of what he used to make in a single night with a client.

Liberty smiled faintly. "And you gave that all up … for Freed?"

Laxus shrugged and took a sip of the weak swill that passed for a drink. "Pretty much, yeah. He's a hell of a guy. I didn't want to lose him."

"Wow," she muttered, and she laughed softly. "You're quite devoted."

Laxus lowered his cup, and his face was utterly serious. "I want to be."

She blushed, feeling happy for her boy. Laxus might be intimidating, but she heard the honesty and ardor in his words. "I'm glad my son has someone like you, instead of someone like his fath-…"

"Hey," Laxus cut in. "No badmouthing him. Not at this party. I told you two, right? Let Freed have his happy family moment. It's bad enough that he knows what Llewellyn and I were up to."

Her equanimity utterly shattered. "H-h-he knows?" she cried out.

"How do you think _I_ found out who his parents are?"

"How did he find out? How did _you_ find out?"

"We kinda—" He paused in frustration. "Shit, I'm repeating myself to both of you." He let out a sigh. Although ideally, he would tell both of them everything at the same time, perhaps it was best to tackle one at a time. There was nothing else to do but explain all over again. "He had a family picture in his dorm room, I freaked out because I recognized you two, he immediately questioned: why would _I_ know his parents? It all just kind of came together. I figured out whose son he was; he figured out who one of my clients were."

Liberty stared at him, but suddenly she placed a hand down on a table, her face paling, knees shaking. "Oh God," she whispered, feeling faint. "So my son knows about his father." She realized she had to calm herself. A maid walked up and offered her a glass of water, which she waved off. She did not want anyone nearby as she talked to Laxus. "Does he know _I _had a hand in this?"

Laxus tried to look supportive, or as best as he could pull off. "Ma'am, he loves you very much."

She nodded stiffly. "Then, he knows."

"Yes, he does," Laxus admitted. "And he still loves you. Like I said, he's a hell of a guy. You should be proud of him. I don't think many sons would be that…" This time, it was Laxus pausing, searching for the right word. "…_understanding_ about their parents, realizing adults do these sorts of things." He lightly patted her on the arm. "He's a smart kid."

She smiled with her eyes cast down and a light blush. "Yes, he is."

Laxus smirked at her motherly expression. She could be cold one minute, skittish the next, but right at that moment… "You have this look that says 'He's my little pride and joy.'"

She chuckled and shrugged awkwardly. "His father might be cold, but Freed and I were always close. The … resemblance between him and me … um … it's been noted," she said awkwardly. "Perhaps that's why he turned out to be homose-…"

"Hey!" Laxus snapped, jolting her into silence.

"I … I didn't mean it badly," she assured him. "I do have to wonder, though. I mean, he looks like his mother. Maybe that's why he … ah … ahem … picked up a bit of my … femininity … um…"

"Ma'am," Laxus said with a scolding glare.

"Yes?"

His eyes narrowed and his voice dropped to a private whisper. "Shut up right now."

She croaked out a protest at being ordered in her own house, yet that gaze was overpowering even to a proud woman like her. She pursed her lips together and did not say more.

"Thank you," Laxus said with an ever-polite smile. He was utterly sick of niceties. He glanced around the room, wishing Freed was with him again. "I need something stronger than this goddamn piss-water."

"Blue Label?" Liberty offered. She met eyes with the butler standing against the wall, present yet unseen. Was it sign language she gave him? In any case, Bas nodded and left to obey.

Oh God, he could have hugged her! "You know my taste, ma'am."

"Please, call me Liberty. Having you call me _ma'am_ reminds me of … those times," she said with scorn blazing in her eyes.

Laxus smirked playfully. "How about I call you _Mom_?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh God, no!"

He could hardly help but laugh at her reaction. Liberty was so much worse at hiding her emotions than Llewellyn was. Talking with her, edging out her emotions, was loads more fun.

Her face suddenly pale in horror. "Wait … that … that wasn't some sort of _hint_, was it? Y-you and … and my boy?"

Laxus shrugged. "We're not engaged, if that's what you mean."

"Oh, thank God," she sighed in relief.

Too easy! He had to tease her some more. "Maybe in the future," he mused softly.

"Ahh! Uh … mmmh…" She instantly choked back her loud cry and pretended it was all a cough. "You're joking, right?" she hissed in a panicking whisper.

He stared down at her hard. "Who says I am?"

She stared, eyes wide, but her mind a blank. On one hand, this was the man she had known for four years as the professional dominant—not much more than a male prostitute in her mind—who she was forced to watch with jealousy and even a bit of revilement as he pleasured a husband she realized she could no longer fully satisfy. She had every right in the world to hate Laxus, especially when she found out that Llewellyn had wanted his dominant over his wife, had offered to pay him, keep him around, pamper this prostitute, when he could not even be loyal to her, the woman who had shared his bed for over twenty years and bore him three children. However, on the other hand, she realized that Laxus had given up quite a lot merely because Freed did not like it. He had reformed himself, all because of his love for her son. With the bitterness of Llewellyn's infidelity still painful in her heart, seeing this sort of devotion was reassuring. There were still good men out in the world, and her son had been lucky enough to find one.

"For the moment, no," Laxus assured her. "But … I really do like him." A smile came to his lips, only to fade. "I think he deserves better, though."

That surprised her. "You think so?"

For a while, she had thought this man was simply an interloper, a gold-digger, there for the family money. However, the sadness in his blue eyes as Laxus glanced around at the ballroom showed her the truth. He knew this was a level of _haut monde_ that surpassed his own social upbringing, and instead of a covetous gleam she had seen in plenty of suitors going after some upper class bachelor to get at the money, Laxus looked almost repulsed by this level of wealth.

"Look at me, amidst all this," he scoffed. "I don't belong here."

She had to agree; rather than trying to fit in, Laxus was fighting against the smothering miasma of high society.

Laxus nodded over to a food table. "That guy, Elfman. Know anything about him?"

"Um … not really. He has two sisters, a famous opera singer whom our family knows through our connections with the opera house, and a young student at a community college interning somewhere, I can't recall exactly."

"Rich?"

"Not particularly," she shrugged. She knew that Elfman himself was not wealthy, but his sister Mira was the _prima donna_ of the opera house the Justines supported with their patronage, so the family was not destitute either.

"So he's like me," Laxus realized. "Cool. I'm gonna go talk to him. And get that Blue Label. Bring it to the table with us. Maybe I'll make friends with this big guy," he smiled, walking off.

"Um … yes … right away," Liberty said awkwardly, not used to be ordered around in her own home.

It truly was strange that her daughter brought home this massive man, hardly refined but not the worst she had dated, on the same day that her son brought home his intimidating boyfriend. Two men, both huge, both with scars on their faces and shoulders twice as broad as her. Truly, their family was going to be the talk of all the high society parties this winter.

* * *

"So Father, that's how it is."

To the best of his ability, Freed had just explained how he met Laxus, a highly condensed version of how they hooked up—no mention made that Laxus had assumed Freed was buying sexual favors—and their current situation: dating exclusively, Laxus quitting his clients, and his new job as an electrician.

"I see." Llewellyn knew there was probably a whole novel's worth of lewd details involved in this tale, but he did not press for more. He had once seen his son at the South Pole Club, so he knew that must have been where he met Laxus. Their relationship began near the beginning of the past university semester, so around August or September. The point Freed mostly stressed was that Laxus was loyal and their relationship was serious, not frivolous.

Freed was normally good at reading the faces of others, but his father had trained not to give away his inner thoughts through a perfect poker face mask. He had no clue what his father thought of this relationship, but at least no harsh words had been spoken yet, no demands to break up, no threats to pull him out of school and lock him away.

"And … um … I'd really appreciate it if you let me and Laxus be the way we are." That was the most important part. He did not want his parents butting in. Freed did not care if they disapproved, so long as they did not attempt to separate him from Laxus.

After having listened to his son talk about the man _he_ had known for four years as Thor, the man _he_ had been infatuated with before Freed was even a legal adult, the man _he_ had thought was truly the destined mate he had been searching for all his life … he needed a drink!

He walked through the parlor to an oak cabinet. Inside was a carafe of brandy. He poured two glasses, one for himself and one for his son, guessing that if his nerves were this frazzled, and he had trained to keep his emotions bottled tightly, then his son who had a far more delicate emotional level, just like his mother, was probably a powder keg ready to explode. Sure enough, Freed took the brandy glass, and the liquid trembled with the nervous shaking of his hands. He gladly drank it down and hissed at the strength.

Llewellyn sipped his in a more refined manner. "Well, you're apparently aware of how I know him."

"Yes," Freed said with a pain in his chest. It was still hard to imagine that Laxus had done _those sorts of things_ to his own father.

Llewellyn nodded and sipped some more. As a father, there were many negative things he wanted to say, scolding Freed for hooking up with a strip dancer who he knew nothing about—at least Laxus had come recommended to the Justines—let alone the issue of how easily any of their associates could recognize Laxus. Anyone who knew him as a client would know precisely what this young man used to do as a living. It was easy to blackmail their family if they threatened to let it spill that the eldest son and heir to the Justine fortune was intimate with a strip dancer who prostituted himself for sexual favors.

However, for every argument he had, he turned it back around onto himself. If Laxus had agreed to his proposed deal, given up Freed, accepted the money, lived with him, then all of his worries would have applied to himself just as much as they now applied to Freed.

"I probably shouldn't judge you," he admitted quietly.

Freed looked up in shock. "Huh?"

Llewellyn gave his son a sympathetic smile. "How can I?"

Truly, his son was doing only what Llewellyn himself had wanted to do. It was Laxus who picked Freed over him, and he could not bring himself to hate Laxus for making that choice. If anything, now realizing what the dominant sadist must have been going through, the mental anguish of wanting to remain faithful to Freed while hearing his boyfriend's own father fawning over him obsessively … he probably got off lucky just getting punched in the nose.

Llewellyn stared at the burgundy liquid in the glass. Slowly, sagely, he told his son, "Let him do what he wants, but always warn him if he's going too far. Obey him, but don't smother him. If it doesn't work out, there are many dominants out there."

Freed blinked, staring silently. It took him almost a solid minute to figure out what his father just said. When it fully sank in, he began to laugh. "Oh my God, I'm getting BDSM advice from my father!" It was so outrageous, he set the glass down to laugh. "We never even had a sex talk."

Llewellyn shrugged blithely, "I figured you were smart enough not to need the sex talk. Bicklow was another issue."

Freed laughed, and Llewellyn finally joined in. They had not really bonding in this sort of way since … well, maybe never. Freed had always been closer to his mother, very few traits of his stern and business-savvy father. This was the first time they had something similar between them, and it was ironic that it was the one trait Llewellyn had hoped his children would never find out about.

He looked at his grown son. He saw Liberty in him, an inherent beauty, the flowing hair and long eyelashes, even her same beauty mark, traits that were strange for a man, but he could understand how Laxus fell so easily for him. Freed was likable from the moment you met him, passionate in everything he did yet often skittish, which made people want to shelter him. Definitely, he and Liberty had sheltered Freed, although he had often gone down his own path at their disapproval. Competition fencing, for example, and being openly gay when he was still a teen.

Now he had truly struck out on his own, a relationship he must have known would be met with disapproval long before he found out about Laxus and Llewellyn's connection. As much as he wanted to oppose their love, Llewellyn also found it charming that a stern character like Laxus was there to bolster his son.

"I'm glad he's good to you."

Freed smiled at the gentleness in his father's tone. "He is." Freed felt his cheeks warm up as he thought about those moments when Laxus was tender and attentive. That was a side he probably never showed to clients. "He … um…" He wanted to say something, but speaking about this to his father was definitely awkward. "What I need is … more gentle than what he's used to." He saw his father nod in understanding. "I'm not into the hard stuff and … and sometimes that's what he needs."

That confession surprised Llewellyn. "How do you deal with that?"

"There's a club. He works there as an electrician now, sometimes as a bouncer, and sometimes … as a … um…" How could he put it politely? "…as a demonstration expert." The slight tip of his father's head showed that was too generic. "Flogging, paddling, showing interested club members how to do it right."

"Ah," nodded Llewellyn. He had been to clubs like that. It was how he got caught cheating the first time.

"When he has those days, I go and watch. That way, I'm there, I can see everything he does. He's only done it three times since starting there." This new arrangement, Laxus working in public instead of private, was still new to both of them.

"And that's okay with you? Watching him?" Llewellyn asked in concern. This was a lot like how Liberty had to sit and watch as Laxus' sadistic treatment got Llewellyn in the right mood. He knew she never completely liked their arrangement, but it had saved their marriage for a time.

"It's … awkward," Freed confessed. "I mean, I see what his potential is, and I know … that's … it's way more than I can give him," he whispered. Knowing that truly was depressing at times. "But then, he turns to me." A small smile flitted onto his face. "He just gives me this look, like he's saying, 'Yeah, I need this, but … it's just a need. No emotion.' There's no love in it. His love is … here," Freed chuckled, pressing his hand to his chest. "In my heart."

That was what kept this arrangement working. Whenever Freed felt miserable, seeing the power of Laxus' paddling, knowing he would have screamed safewords long before then, and especially seeing other people getting aroused due to his treatment and demonstrations, those looks Laxus gave him banished away all doubts.

"He'll keep looking at me while paddling someone else. I don't want to say it's vicarious—that's kind of weird—but I like to know that he can get what he needs and still be loyal to me. I was always worried before. I'd worry … what if he found someone better? What if he had more fun with one of his clients?"

Llewellyn dropped his head. He was just one of many clients. Laxus probably thought little of him. Just another ass to beat! Yet their arrangement, and the other arrangements Laxus had, must have truly burdened his son.

"Now, I can watch what he does, and I see … I see for myself, it just doesn't affect him. He needs it mentally, but physically?" He shook his head. "It … doesn't affect him. But then, what I do…"

He smiled bashfully at memories. Even when the submissive before Laxus cried out in utter bliss, Laxus never got hard, not even once. Not until he could grab Freed and hear _his_ moans, feel _his_ body, and only then did something stir in his leather pants.

"This is weird, talking about this with my father," Freed admitted, "but … even just a little bit of what I can give to him, even that small amount, is enough. It's enough for him, and somehow that's just amazing to me."

Llewellyn had to admit, it was hard to hear this truth. Never once had Thor—Laxus, he had to remind himself—gotten aroused. Even that last day, when Llewellyn tried so hard to stir him up, forcefully caressing him, whispering sweetly, moaning heatedly, palming him with urgency, the sadist showed no signs of physical pleasure. His son could effortlessly give to Laxus what Llewellyn could never provide. Laxus' words echoed in his ears.

_'I have my own life and a man I love. I don't care how much money you give me, you would still be nothing more than a client, and I have never—ever—fucked a client. If you think something as stupid as money could bribe my boyfriend, you obviously have forgotten what real love is truly like.'_

Laxus had turned down a life of luxury and pleasure for Freed. He had given up an incredibly lucrative career all because Freed did not like it. As much as Llewellyn had been enamored with his dominant, Laxus was never his master. Only Freed could call him master.

"You've got something special, son."

Hearing those words from his father made Freed smile. "I like to think so," he said with hope. "I got lucky. Maybe we both got lucky, finding each other."

"I'm sorry if … if _how I knew him_ … if it was a cause for anguish."

"You didn't know," Freed said, not a single bit of blame in his voice. "I mean, he said he knew you guys for four years."

"Something like that, yes." Four wonderful years! Or at least, that had been his opinion. For Laxus, he was nothing more than a long-term contract.

"So, that was long before I knew him." Freed placed a hand on his father's arm. "It's fine, really."

Llewellyn was not sure how to feel about being forgiven by his own son. "I'm happy for both of you," he said. It was the closest he could give to approval with his heart still broken by Laxus' rejection. That room, those memories, the connection he thought had existed between him and the thunder god, had been just a fantasy. It was time to accept the harshness of reality. He gulped the last of his brandy and slammed the glass down. "How about I take you both somewhere? Come on, let's find your boyfriend."

"Oh! R-right."

Hearing his father call Laxus _your boyfriend_ felt amazing. All of his fears about this meeting were gone. They left the parlor and returned to the ballroom. As they strode into the room filled with music and chatting, it was easy to pick out the two who had not been raised in this lifestyle.

Freed cringed. "Oh wow, those two totally stand out."

"Yeah, they do," frowned Llewellyn.

Laxus and Elfman must have shared plenty of drinks together, sharing a bottle of Blue Label between them, not even bothering with cups. They were telling a bawdy joke and laughing loudly, while the other guests kept their distance and stared.

"My God, they're terrifying the guests. Okay! We're definitely going to do this." He stepped forward swiftly. "Come, son."

"Ah! Y-yes, Father." Freed rushed to catch up. They walked over to the two burly men.

In his most civil voice, Llewellyn greeted them. "Mister Dreyar, Mister … Strauss, was it?"

"Yo!"

"Sup!"

Llewellyn could smell the alcohol on Elfman's breath, and their informality really stuck out. "Riiiiight … um … Laxus, would you come with me and Freed?"

He set down the scotch bottle. "Oooh God." This was what he had dreaded.

"It's not bad. Come on, both of you. Evergreen?"

She was in the middle of a gaggle of girls, but she scurried off from their gossip at her father's call. "Hmm?"

"Has your boyfriend seen…" He tried to think of a good place. "…the backyard?"

Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses. "You're trying to get him out of here."

"Yes," he said bluntly.

She stomped her foot and rolled her eyes. "Daaaaad!"

"Just until the guests settle down again." He leaned into her ear. "And try to sober him up. You brought him; he's your responsibility."

Evergreen looked over at her drunk boyfriend, then glared at her father. "I hate this family," she whispered scathingly. She grabbed Elfman just before he could pick up the Blue Label bottle, and she tugged him toward an exit.

Llewellyn's face never changed from its pleasant mask, but he let out a soft sigh of frustration. "It's like raising them through teenage puberty all over again. Seven years of parenting hell," he whispered so no one would hear. Then Llewellyn gave a genteel smile all around, silently assuring his guests that it was safe now; the scary large man was gone. "All right! You two, come with me." He turned sharply and marched away.

Freed and Laxus followed his stride and heard the party behind them liven up again.

Freed leaned over to Laxus. "Where are we going?"

"Hell if I know!" he whispered back. He stared at the back of Llewellyn's head. What did this man have planned for them?

**Next Chapter: "A Very Merry Christmas"**

* * *

_A/N: Audio for the chapter: chirb =dot= it/GBFgtH_

_Sorry for the wait. The issue with this chapter was...it's cursed. Yes, cursed!_

_I broke my wrist months ago and something didn't heal right. It's hurting, so back in December I asked if someone would help me type up this chapter if I made a recording of the dialogue (basically me ad-libbing and making shit up as I go, they type up the spoken words, I write up the rest). Someone eagerly raised their cyber-hand, yet only a few days later and before I could send them the audio, they had computer failure which forced them to back out. So I asked again, another person volunteered, and her computer broke just days later. Just as I was beginning to fret, a fan leaped out of nowhere BEGGING me to let him type up one of my chapters. I decided 3rd time's the charm, right? Not so! First, since the audio was really quiet when transferred from my phone to Google Drive, I ran it through a program called Audacity. Normally, this is no problem. However, for whatever reason, Audacity kept crashing. Every time it crashed, it completely corrupted the file and I had to download it again from my phone. This happened 4 times before finally I made a version that was okay. I then gave it to the kid. Things cropped up in his life, and three weeks passed (normally this process takes 2-3 days) so I got worried. He insisted he had all but 10 minutes done. Then, on the day I requested that he send whatever he had and he could finish the rest later, his laptop broke, taking what he had written into cyber oblivion. So, all of that work was lost, and 3 weeks of waiting wasted. I was fed up, so I began to type it on my own, wrist pain be damned! While I was typing, as if to confirm "yes, this is a cursed chapter," my power suddenly went out. Thank God for auto-save! But still, all these system failures were just a little too eerie to be coincidence. Another fan read about this "cursed chapter" and volunteered to take a chance. I gave her only half of the audio since I had begun work on it already. I'm still waiting for that, so I decided to split this chapter into two parts, since it was rather long already, and so you don't have to wait any longer.  
_

_Something like this has never happened to me in all these months of lending out audio files of ad-libbed dialogue for others to transcribe while my wrist heals. It was just too weird. My only guess is, something out there doesn't want this story to end_.__


	20. A Very Merry Christmas

Chapter 20

**A Very Merry Christmas**

Laxus, Freed, and Llewellyn walked through halls until they reached an elevator. Laxus thought it was bizarre, having a house so big you needed an elevator. They entered, Llewellyn pulled out a key, and he used it in a slot just below the number pad. Then he pushed for 2B, the second basement.

Laxus' eyes narrowed as he did this. 2B, and a key. This was familiar. He stared hard at Llewellyn, but the man never gave away any hint about his intentions. He stared straight ahead, the sort of stance people took in crowded corporate elevators, listening to the dings as they passed floors.

At last, there was a final ding, and the door slid open. Llewellyn stepped out into a well-lit but plain hallway.

"Here we are," he called out cheerfully.

Laxus stepped out into a hallway that was all too familiar. "Oh God." He looked around, but there was no doubt about it. The lighting, the wallpaper, a stain on the carpet: it was all the same. "Wait." Laxus came to a dead stop, shaking his head warily. "Woah, woah, woah. _Wait!_"

Freed paused and looked around at him. "What? Where are we?" He glanced around. No windows, no sunlight, just a hallway lit up by overhead lighting. "Are we underground? This doesn't look like either of the basements."

Laxus glared at Llewellyn and growled in a barely-polite warning, "Sir."

"It's all right," he assured both of them. The businessman placed a hand on his son's shoulders. "Freed, you've never been down here. The elevator takes a key to active this floor."

It took Freed a moment to register what his father was saying. This was like something out of a spy movie. "Wow, we've got a secret floor?"

"Pretty much," he smiled, glancing at the vaulted hall and all of its locked doors. "Lots of old family secrets down here." He kept walking to a certain door. "This is where I want to take you two."

Laxus sneered. "Sir, no!"

Llewellyn raised a hand in peace. "It's all right—"

"No!"

Llewellyn came up to a door and pulled out another key. Twisting it in the lock, he opened the door and motioned for the two to enter. "Go on in, both of you."

Laxus firmly stood his ground, arms folded, eyes almost sparking with anger. "I don't think so, sir."

Freed glanced between his father's calm visage and Laxus' angry glare. What was this odd exchange between them?

Between … them…

Suddenly, it dawned on him. He looked into the room as his father flipped a light on. He had seen rooms like this at the fetish club where Laxus now worked. It was a BDSM dungeon! When his eyes shot over in shock to his father, Llewellyn's face was down-turned in shame. Then Freed looked sharply over to Laxus. He glared hard at the older gentleman. He was being faced with his old lifestyle and stuck right between a former submissive and his boyfriend. Freed placed a hand on the wall as he felt dizzy.

"Oh God, is this the playroom?"

Neither of them answered him, but it was obvious. The room where his father … and Laxus … where they…

"Father! No!" He took a step in front of Laxus, standing his ground and laying claim. He was not about to give up Laxus or share him, not even with his own father. He would rather be disowned than do that.

"No, I'm not coming in with you." Llewellyn handed his keyring to Freed. "This is the key to the elevator. Put the key in, turn it, hit the bottom floor, and it'll take you one level _below _the bottom." He glanced around the hallway with a mournful expression. "I'm not coming down here again."

There was such a mournful tone of finality in his voice, it made Freed worry for a moment. "Father…"

Llewellyn spoke quicker to get it over with. "When you want to come back upstairs, any of the buttons will do. When you want to come down here, have some time alone, you use the key."

Freed realized precisely what this was. Inheritance was something he learned about, being the eldest son of a wealthy man. Handing over property, a business, estate and heirlooms: these were all part of generational wealth. This time, his father was bequeathing to him something far more precious. He was completely giving up on Laxus, even this room that held all of the memories between them.

"Father," he whispered, unsure what to say.

Llewellyn smiled and nodded with determination. From father to son, things were never meant to remain in one person's possession. In this case, he might have known the pleasures of this godlike blond sadist first, but he had to give him up to his son. This was ensuring his son's future happiness in a way money and land never could.

His eyes shifted over to the blond, who was witnessing this exchange with wariness. "Consider it my Christmas present to you, Thor. Uh … _Laxus_."

With a gentleman's smile, he shoved his hand out to shake. Laxus glanced at those fingers, hands that for years had been off-limits. The one and only time those hands had touching him, it had been unwanted. This time, Laxus had to accept touching Llewellyn of his own free will. Hesitantly, he took the offered hand and shook it, sealing the deal of exchange.

"Thank you for everything," Llewellyn said, firmly squeezing the hand that had once pleasured him. "You kept my marriage together for four years. Might have been _hell, _but I'm thankful. I'm glad my children could grow up with a mother and a father. So you have my thanks." He let go of the hand but still stared up into that firm face. "Take care of my boy."

Laxus gave a nod. "I plan to, sir."

Llewellyn squared his shoulders, turned sharply, and strode back to the elevator. They watched until he stepped inside and the door slid closed. Then Laxus let out a sigh as his shoulders unclenched. He really had dreaded the worst for a moment.

"I need a drink!" he whispered gruffly, and he rushed into the opened room. It had a bar stocked, since the Justines knew Laxus liked to drink when he _worked_. He grabbed some brandy and poured out an extra splash, gulping it down as his nerves tingled from being on edge all night.

Cautiously, Freed went past the threshold and looked around. The walls were black with red highlights. A massive bed with red satin sheets sat against one wall that could be curtained off, blocking the view of the kinks around the room, such as a sex swing, stocks, Saint Andrew's Cross, suspension bars of many types, a whipping bench, a spanking horse, and a worship seat. On the walls were an array of whips, floggers, crops, canes, and rods. There were numerous types of handcuffs and restraints, from leather cuffs to iron chains, spreader bars, and fist mitts. There was a low table, and on it were an assortment of collars, from classic leather collars, deep rubber collars, posture collars, spiked, slotted, metal, a collar with fetters attached, and one that went along with a head harness.

Freed gulped hard as he saw all of this, right here, in his own house, buried deep within the bowels of a home where he had played as a child.

"Well, so … uh … this is … this is the room, huh?" Freed looked around again, daring to take a few steps in.

"Don't worry, it's been cleaned, I'm sure."

"Yeah," he muttered, not liking the idea that this room had ever been in use. "Still … still, it's weird. This is the room where you and … my father…"

His words died out. He tried to picture it: _his father_, strapped to that Saint Andrew's Cross, chained to the X-shaped boards, wearing nothing but a collar and a cockring, or maybe a chastity belt. Yes, probably that, a demand from Liberty to make sure her husband did not get too naughty. She would supervise, probably sitting in a corner—yes, he saw the chair now, a simple but elegant chair, where she would sit, watching her husband getting his thrills. Freed knew the feeling. He sat and watched Laxus whip and paddle others. Sometimes it was exciting, and sometimes it was painful to know he could not please his lover that way.

However, as much as he could imagine a husband's submissive posture and his wife's cold acceptance of this carnal need that she could not supply, his brain completely refused to picture that married couple as _his parents_, let alone add Laxus into that scene.

It had been Laxus wielding those paddles.

It was Laxus who swung that riding crop.

It was Laxus who made his father cry out in painful ecstasy.

He knew this deep in his mind, but still he could not picture it. Not here. Not with his father!

Laxus saw the anxiousness in Freed's face and slowly set down his drink. "I take it you don't want to make out down here?"

Freed yanked himself out of those disturbing images and tried to laugh it off like he would at any family party, but he knew he could not brush off issues so easily with Laxus. Those blue eyes could seek out the truth with ease. His head dropped to the side, but he saw the bed. He could not bring himself to look at it yet. He knew Laxus insisted that he never fucked clients, and Liberty had always been in this room to make sure the no-touching rule remained in place, but still…

Still…

He forced himself to smile anyway. "I guess it's a nice retreat to get away from the crowd."

There was no tricking Laxus. With a plaintive sigh, he pulled out another glass, poured some brandy into it, and handed it over to Freed. The green-haired man walked over to the small bar and took the drink. The alcoholic burn calmed him and took away the shiver of dread. Then Laxus' large hand began to rub Freed's back, soothing him.

"A-Are you all right?" Freed stuttered. If this was bad on him, it must be worse for Laxus.

"Yeah," he replied, surprised by how easily he accept and ignore what this room had been for. That was in the past. It was over. This was no long _that_ room. "Your dad's not bad." He was not so uncouth as to not realize what Llewellyn's passing of the key meant. He had given up his last hold on Laxus and fully supported their relationship. It was better than either of them had hoped for. "Your mom's skittish as hell," he added. He looked down to how Freed's hands clutched the brandy glass. "You take after her."

Freed had heard that all of his life, and he smiled reluctantly that even Laxus thought he and his mother were a lot alike. "I guess I take after both, huh?"

Laxus chuckled softly but said nothing. Definitely, Freed had qualities of both of his parents. "Are you okay with your folks?"

Freed took another sip of alcohol and shrugged lightly. "Father and I talked. It seems we … well, _came to an understanding_, at least." He looked around at the room. "I might have even gotten his blessing." Definitely, this room was Llewellyn's way of saying he was okay with them and what he knew they did in privacy. "What about you and my mom?" Freed asked, taking another sip of brandy.

Laxus sighed and shrugged. "She doesn't want me to marry you."

Freed sputtered out the drink, choking and pounding his chest as he gagged in shock. "W-Wait, what?" he cried out.

Laughing, Laxus patted his back to help him cough up all the drink. "Nah, I was joking with her."

"O-oh…" Freed calmed down, but now he felt a slight sting. Only joking? Of course he was just joking. Something like that, it was ridiculous, crazy … too good to be true.

Laxus cautiously eyed the disappointment. "Maybe," he whispered.

Freed's head jolted up, and their eyes met, one wide and stunned, the other calculating and thoughtful. Then Laxus laughed and ruffled up Freed's hair.

"Hey, down the road, kid," he smiled. "Down the road." No matter how he looked at it, it was too early for them to be seriously considering this. Freed was still in college.

"Right," Freed said awkwardly, dropping his gaze. It was way too soon, but still … still… "Um, I guess down here we can at least kiss. Can't quite do that at a party."

"I could kiss you," he teased. "Grab you—" He yanked Freed up against him by the hips. "—dance with you, show these rich fuckers what a _real_ dance is like, bend you over—" He leaned Freed back slightly, holding him in his arms and leaning over him possessively. "—thrust my tongue right down your throat…"

"Don't!" Freed whined, putting his hands forward to push away from Laxus' temptations. He took a step back, looking ashamed.

Laxus glanced down at the bulge pressing tightly against the dressy slacks. "What, did just that get you aroused?" He chuckled deviously as Freed looked uncomfortable and fought the urge to reach down. "You horny little bastard."

Freed spun around and walked away to hide his shame. "When I get embarrassed, I get like this."

Laxus licked his lip hungrily. He came up behind Freed, leaned into his ear, and whispered, "I bet if I were to do that, you'd cum in your pants right in front of everybody."

"Nngh … Laxus!" He walked away from that hot breath and the sibilant, sweet threats. Maybe it was due to all the stress of that night, fearing the possibility of being forced to pick between his family and his lover, but now he was painfully aroused. Twisting his hands together, he muttered, "If we were to do something in this room, would that make it _our_ room and no longer the room … that my father had?"

Laxus smiled at the hesitant yet obvious desire. "He gave you the key. It's your room."

"Oh. Right." That was how things worked with inheritance. Hand over the car keys, and the new car was his. Hand over the key to a vault, and the bank account was his. Hand over the keys to this hidden floor, and the playroom was now his.

"Come on." Gently, Laxus tugged on Freed's hand. "Come over here, on the bed."

Slowly, Freed sat down, like approaching a trigger pad that would set off an explosion. The bed was firm, the sheets slithery, nothing strange about it except the thought deep in his head that _this_ was the bed where it all happened.

"I've never actually sat on this bed," Laxus admitted, feeling the firmness of the mattress.

Freed looked over in shock. "You haven't?"

"Nah. This was the bed your parents used."

Freed bolted right up. "Oh God!" he groaned. Here was where _playtime_ ended and his parents … eww! Just eww!

"No, it's all right," Laxus laughed, finding Freed's reaction so typical for a child suddenly forced to think about their parents having sex together. "It's okay. It was their room, their bed. I just happened to have walked in for a few minutes. Come on, lie down." He pulled Freed back down and grabbed him up into his arms, holding him on his chest while squeezing him possessively. "Just like this," he sighed, happy to be holding him again.

As a child, he had climbed into his parents' bed during storms or after having a nightmare. Before his father's _need_ came about, that had been the bed they used. He had most likely been conceived on that bed, and he never thought anything of it.

Not like a seven-year-old thought about his parents having sex.

Still, it was no different. This was his parents' bed. Just a bed. It was clean, there was no smell. Actually, the entire room seemed a little _too_ sterile.

They laid together, each quietly gazing around at the black and red interior with its assorted supplies. Freed eventually glanced around, really taking it in finally. Laxus also gazed around. Sure, he had been coming to this room once a month for four years, but he rarely really _looked_ at one of his clients' playrooms. After a while, they all looked the same.

"This is surreal," Freed muttered.

"Tell me about it!" scoffed Laxus.

Laxus knew right away, if this was going to be _their_ playroom, these items all had to go. He would never reuse a sex toy on someone else, which was precisely why he insisted his submissives all brought their own items. The collection was impressive, sure, but … this was not the sort of legacy a father should give to his son. This was the sort of collection they would have to build for themselves, buying what worked for them, getting their own custom-made items, maybe designing the room differently to be less opposing and more…

More what? Freed was such a romantic. How would he want his playroom? Laxus wanted to create a little slice of heaven for his green angel.

"It's quiet," Freed whispered.

"Damn quiet," Laxus agreed. "Damn, _too_ quiet. You really can't hear anything in here. My ears are ringing."

Freed nuzzled into Laxus' armpit, smelling the scent of his body. It was more than the soap and deodorant that he used to clean himself up for the part. It was the manly musk, that scent that was faint now with all the cleaning, but that really came out when Laxus was sweaty. He rolled toward that scent.

Laxus glanced down as Freed curled in closer. "What, you wanna cuddle?"

"Maybe," he whispered, feeling secure in those arms.

_Too cute, dammit!_ "Come here." He pulled Freed up onto his chest and hugged him tightly. They shifted around until both were comfortable. "This is good." He loved hugging Freed and how his long hair fell around him. Even though he had pulled his hair back and tried to keep it tamed for tonight, those long strands were everywhere.

"Are you really okay?" Freed asked, glancing down at Laxus.

His eyes focused on the mirror above the bed. Kinky, Llewellyn! Real kinky! "Family gatherings are going to be hell for a while," he predicted, but then he smiled at Freed and brushed back a long strand of green hair that had slipped loose, "but I think we're good."

"Yeah," he smiled, settling back down into that broad chest. All of his fears were gone. His parents had accepted them. More than that, his father gave them this room. He really had welcomed Laxus into the family already.

"Hey." Laxus took Freed's cheek and pulled it over. "I wanna do this."

He grabbed the back of Freed's scalp and pulled him down for a domineering kiss. Freed moaned at the erotic hair-pulling. Then a tongue came, filling his mouth, the taste of brandy still coating it. Freed's tongue met his, twirling, sliding over those chapped lips, and his lips sucked on that tongue until Laxus groaned. His strong fingers loosened, letting Freed go, and he smiled up at the turquoise eyes that gazed down at him, lowered with dizzy lust. Laxus did not want to push him, though. Today must have been hell on Freed, and he just wanted his boyfriend to know that he would still be here for him, no matter what happened with family, friends, or society in general. Fuck all that! So long as he had this man, that was enough for him.

Freed saw the gentle gaze that Laxus so rarely showed. He loved that look, craved that protection, and wanted … more. Just more! He dived down, taking control for once, and thrust his tongue passed those firm lips.

Laxus grunted in surprise. Freed was holding him down, kissing aggressively, while the heady flavor of his tongue danced a tango through his mouth.

"Freed?" he muttered, but more kisses rained down on him. "Mmh, not that I mind," he added. He liked to feel just how much Freed truly loved him.

Another kiss silenced him, and the tongue invaded again. He licked back, twirling his tongue around. Freed suddenly rolled over, straddling Laxus. His fingers clenched onto the broad shoulders as he kissed firmer, pressing Laxus' head down into the pillow.

"Damn, you're aggressive tonight," he mumbled between kisses.

"I can't help it," Freed moaned, kissing harder, wanting more. He slowly pulled back and gazed at his domineering lover. "My father gave you up," he said, feeling only a little guilty for robbing his father of someone who had been special to him. However, that was also Laxus' choice. He willingly chose Freed over Llewellyn. "So, it's my turn to claim you," he said with a sly smile.

Laxus chuckled deep in his chest. "Oh?" he asked in amusement. Claiming, eh? He leaned up and smirked right into Freed's face. "How do you plan to do that?"

Freed sat back with his finger pressed to his chin in mock consideration, humming as he glanced around. Then a devious gleam twinkled in his eyes and a devilish smile possessed his lips as he stated, "Like this."

In a flash, his swift hands grabbed Laxus' right wrist, another hand reached to the post on the headboard, and he pulled forth handcuffs already attached. With deft fingers, he clasped the cuff around Laxus' wrist. While Laxus laid stunned in confusion, he was wide open for Freed to snatch the other hand.

"Shit! Ah! H-hey!" Laxus yelled.

Before his body had a chance to fight back, cold steel surrounded his wrist, chaining him to the opposite bedpost. Then Freed sat straight up, a posture of confidence, like a jockey sitting atop his race horse. Laxus yanked on the cuffs, but they were completely secure. In astonishment, he gawked up at Freed, who had a smug look on his aristocratic face.

That … little … bitch! Laxus wasn't sure whether to be mad that he was caught so easy, or proud that it was _his slave_ who had bested him. In either case, he was trapped, and Freed looked arrogant.

"Oooh, you did it this time, you bastard," he chuckled, glaring with a smile and a shake of his head.

"What?" Freed asked with feigned innocence. "I noticed the handcuffs on the bed." He leaned in close and whispered down at Laxus, "Why not use them?"

Laxus growled, yanked on the cuffs, but fell back. He laid there, captured, and he began to laugh. "Okay, you got me," he conceded. "So what are you gonna do with me?"

Freed stroked his chin and glanced over the large body. "Maybe … down here."

Freed slithered over the rippled muscles, slowly slid down the zipper to the tailor-made pants, reached in, and eased out the erection that was twitching to be released. It was already firming up, and two strokes were all it took to bring it fully to attention.

Laxus flinched from a pulse throbbing in his groin as blood rushed down there. He knew Freed sensed the change, the sudden stiffness, when he glanced back down at the member he was cradling in his fingers, and one eyebrow arched up in surprise and pleasure. Damn him, but he stroked even harder just to feel how he had affected Laxus.

"I did like licking you," Freed whispered. He gave a tiny cat-like lick to the tip of the head.

Laxus yanked on the handcuffs at just that small lick. Being out of control was against his nature. It made his heart race, but there was a thrill to it. This was not someone there to hurt him like in his childhood, but his lover who had trapped him with promises of pleasure.

Freed tilted his head in amusement. "For someone who's a sadist, just getting a little tied up … makes you so hard." He stroked down the arousal.

"Shut up! You know it's _you_ that makes me hard, not anything I do."

That answer seemed to please Freed.

Laxus knew it was not the handcuffs, nor Freed's hands, that made him stiffen. True, his hands were incredible, lithe and dexterous, able to hold firmly but handle delicately, talents he must have learned as a swordsman.

No, it wasn't the hands. It was his eyes!

When those turquoise eyes glanced from his groin up to his face, with those long lashes framing them and the tongue out ready to taste, _that_ was when Laxus knew he had been defeated.

Freed dragged his tongue from the zipper to the tip, swirled around the head, and then back down the other side. He kissed the erection reverently before using his whole mouth to take in his dessert.

Laxus stiffened and pulled on the handcuffs again. He wanted to stroke through that green hair, caress Freed as he did this, just _touch_ him. He was used to getting what he wanted. Just sitting there, with nothing else to do but lie back and enjoy the pleasure, made it too intense. Shit, but if this kept up, he was not going to last long at all!

Freed pulled off looking satisfied at the moans he was eliciting out of Laxus. He only lightly caressed the erection, rubbing his saliva around it, as he rested atop the barrel chest and gazed down at his lover.

"So," he said, caressing his hands up and down Laxus' length in lazy strokes, "how about some role-reversal in this room? In the hotel, it's you dominating over me. In my dorm room, it's all tender and loving. But _down here_?"

Freed gave a sly chuckle. His fingers firmed just a little tighter, enough to make Laxus groan his name.

"_I'm_ the master here," he said sternly, gazing down with eyes that tattled that, although he was a masochist, he had been born as the son of a tycoon, trained to be savvy in business, and raised to take a leadership role in the capitalist world.

"Little bastard," Laxus growled in defiance.

"Come on. I wanna hear _you_ say it this time."

"Hell no!"

"Come on," he grinned, biting his lip with salacious anticipation. "Like a butler."

Laxus turned his face away defiantly.

"Come on," Freed goaded playfully. "You know I'm used to having servants call me Master Freed. I may be your slave, but you could be my butler when I'm here." He laughed softly, trying to coax over Laxus' face.

Those electric blue eyes glared up. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Mm-hmm," Freed nodded, trying to hold back a laugh.

Seriously, he was way too sexy for his own good. Fine! He could rumor his little slave in his game. "So," he said, as haughty as he could with a fake accent, "what shall I do to serve you, _Master_ Freed?"

Freed blinked, shocked he did it. Laxus … calling _him_ master! He cock burned, and he backed off, gasping and grabbing himself. He croaked out a noise of desperation as he felt a surging sensation already tingling him.

"Hey, no coming in your pants, I'm serious," Laxus warned.

"R-Right," he nodded. He climbed off the bed and turned away, trying to calm himself. A few breaths did it, but he cringed slightly. "I think I need to change out of my underwear."

"You came?"

"No … but it's dripping." He sounded mortified, and that shame clicked something on in Laxus' brain.

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Get out of those clothes," he ordered.

"Right," he nodded, quickly taking off the pants before the pre-cum soaked through and showed. His underwear was not so fortunate. As he peeled off his briefs, he saw a moist spot darkening the fabric. He put the underwear aside so the pre-cum would not get on his suit pants.

When he turned around wearing just his shirt, Laxus looked down and saw the arousal with a trickle leaking from the head down the shaft.

"Oh God, you _are_ dripping." He gulped hard at the sight of it. He was ready to drip as well just seeing Freed messing himself. "So … what do you want _me_ to do about it?"

Freed bit his lip, not in desire this time, but out of uncertainty. He had not planned this at all. "Um … m-maybe … uh…"

"Come on," Laxus said sharply.

Freed tensed up at the order. Slowly, he took off the rest of his clothes and laid them over a chair so they would not get wrinkled. Then he walked naked back to the bed and climbed on. Chained up, all Laxus could do was watch as those thin, graceful limbs crawled onto the bed. Freed looked over the bed, calculating what he could do. Timidly, he crawled closer to Laxus face, but then twisted. He straddled over his face while leaning down toward his groin.

"Like … this?"

Laxus got a glorious face full of Freed's ass, balls, with that cock near his mouth. "You little freak."

"Is that okay?"

"Sixty-nine? Yeah!" He tried to reach his lips up, but the cock was pointing the wrong way. "Come on, I can't grab your hips when I'm like this." Sensually, he ordered, "Slide it into my mouth."

Freed took hold of himself and guided his erection over to those lips.

"You better suck me off good," Laxus demanded just before that deliciously dripping cock filled his mouth and forced him into silence.

With Laxus' lips around him and his mouth already working, Freed leaned over his groin. He widened his mouth and bore down onto him. Laxus had a little pre-cum that intensified his taste, and Freed groaned at the flavor. He pressed all the way down, then wrapped one hand around what his mouth could not reach. His hand and mouth worked together. As he stroked, his other hand fiddled with the belt, unthreading it, unsnapping the button, and he spent a couple of seconds to shove the pants down, just in case he drooled or dripped. That would protect the fabric from getting messy. Laxus' hips lifted to help him shove the trousers down his thighs, and then Freed's hands were all over him again, stroking while he sucked eagerly.

Laxus lost hold of the cock in his mouth. He wanted it back, but he could not grasp it and guide it toward him.

"You know, being tied up is annoying."

Freed kept right on sucking. "Mm-hmm," he hummed, as if to say _Told you so!_

"I can't touch you."

"Mmh," Freed agreed, slurping up him.

Laxus flinched at how good it felt. "I _wanna_ touch you."

"Nngh-nh," Freed hummed in denial. He reached around to himself and angled his cock back toward that mouth.

"Bastard," Laxus whispered just before being gagged again into silence.

They licked, sucked, and Laxus began to pant as Freed's mouth and hand pleasured him. Soft groans, heady hums, and the moist sounds of hungry pleasure filled the room. Laxus finally had to pull back and catch his breath. He was drooling and ready to choke on the amount of pre-cum dripping from Freed's cock. Seriously, this guy had a lot built up in him.

Just as he was about to ask Freed to help him again with pulling the erection into such an awkward angle, Freed instead leaned forward more, lifting his body away from Laxus' face so he could move lower and deep-throat Laxus.

The blond cried out in pleasure from that tight space and the small bobs Freed gave to him before pulling back and catching his breath.

"Do you like that?" Freed asked, glancing around his shoulder and seeing the blush on Laxus' face. He took the hand that had been stroking Laxus, now drenched in saliva and pre-cum, and dragged it down his perineum. "Do you like me touching … inside you?" He slid a finger in.

Laxus yanked hard on the handcuffs as his whole body arched from the intrusion. Freed grinned mischievously to see that chiseled face flush.

"No fair," Laxus panted.

"What?" Freed chuckled, carefully fingering him.

He huffed through the strange feeling that was not quite pain, but not yet fully pleasure yet. "I wanna touch you."

"Aww, but you _always_ get to touch me," Freed teased. "How often do I get to touch you?" His finger purposely pressed deeper until he felt the small lump inside.

Laxus jolted and struggled to hold back a moan. "Freed … come on!"

Instead, Freed reached back, took hold of himself, and nudged the flared head up against Laxus' mouth. "Suck it," he ordered with a smirk.

Laxus glared at him. Stupid slave, getting too full of himself, acting all arrogant! He would show him! "Fuck you." Laxus slammed his face up, taking that erection and vigorously sucking on it.

Freed shivered out a moan of hedonistic pleasure. "Y-yeah, like that!" He dived down, sucking Laxus, while his finger kept moving. His mouth, his hand, and that finger inside all sought out to pleasure his thunder god. That was what a _master_ did, after all. He took care of servants … especially butlers.

Laxus' mouth was full. He could barely talk, but he felt himself ready to come. "Freed," he began to warn. Suddenly, as if sensing it and wanting everything, Freed's finger found the prostate again and rubbed it. Laxus cried out and yanked hard on the handcuffs He tried to fight it, struggling to hold back, but he was trapped, a prisoner to the pleasure, unable even to shout a proper warning with the cock in his mouth nearly choking him. "_Freed!_"

He gushed out into that mouth, and Freed whined at the surge. He forcefully gulped down the salty dessert just to keep from choking on it all. He could feel the tenseness in Laxus' ass, his thighs, and the convulsing muscles in his stomach, where Freed laid sprawled across. He gulped as more poured out, and more. It had been a while since they last made love, and Laxus had a reservoir built up that Freed was more than happy to swallow.

Finally, Laxus sank under him, and Freed pulled back with a soft cough from the thickness. He pulled his finger out, wiped it on the sheet, and cradled the softening cock so it would not get on Laxus' dress shirt. He tenderly licked an oozing drip as it shrank. Then, happy to pleasure him, he gave the obedient cock a kiss and turned around.

Laxus was flushed and sweaty. That scent Freed had noticed earlier was more potent, utterly intoxicating! Yet that look of surrender and exhaustion, sprawled out, chained up, giving in to the pleasure, made Freed giggle naughtily.

"Once again, you came before me," he pointed out, feeling proud at holding himself back.

Laxus panted and slowly opened his eyes. "Damn you … for being this good." Freed just smiled proudly. "Now seriously, unhandcuff me."

"Mmm … nope," he decided flippantly. He turned around and showed the curved erection that still rose to meet the thunder god. "Because you're not done." He stroked his fingers through Laxus' hair. "This way now."

Laxus groaned, tired but not wanting his naughty vixen of a slave to be denied.

"Come on, sit up," he encouraged. He stuck a pillow under Laxus' head until he was at a good angle.

Laxus scooted his hips up to a half-sitting recline. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Freed leaned over and kissed him. "I will soon," he smirked.

Laxus swore he saw that slightly dominating—or maybe just aristocratic—gleam in his eyes again. He loved how meek and needy Freed could be, but he felt a spike of pride knowing that his precious slave was so confident that his master would be able to pleasure him, no matter how much this naughty slave tried to wear him out first … and he was damn good at overwhelming Laxus to exhaustion.

"Lemme suck on that," Laxus snarled hungrily.

Freed stroked a finger down his nose. "Say _please master_."

"Fuck you."

"Say it."

Laxus leered at him. Their eyes battled, a harsh glare used to ordering others, versus an arrogant smile, spoiled and used to getting his way. It was a contest of dominance. Who was truly in charge: the dominant sadist or the young master and heir to this whole damn mansion?

Laxus knew that socially and economically, Freed was way above him, a destined leader currently straddled atop the lowest scum of society, someone who prostituted himself for money. He had grown up under the shadow of hilltop mansions like this, scurrying under the rule of people like the Justines, men who ran businesses, who could hire and fire at the slightest whim, men like Jellal Fernandes, except that bastard just ran some sleazy club. Freed was destined to rule an empire of corporations, a young prince of blue blood. Someone like Laxus should have felt privileged to change the light bulbs in this man's bathroom, let alone stand by their side at some posh party.

Still, he would not dare admit defeat. His eyes hardened, and he ordered simply, "Gimme!"

Freed broke into laughs. "You can't say it, can you?"

"No," he said sharply. However, it was more than just the bourgeoisie rising against the aristocracy. This went much deeper. It was a matter of pride, being a sadist, not wanting to be tamed, not in this sort of way. "Don't make me," he requested softly.

Freed saw the heartfelt request, the pride in his blue eyes, and he bowed his head, surrendering to his sweet but stubborn thunder god. "Okay," he said, and he leaned over, letting his lips hover right by Laxus' lips. "Master," he breathed.

Laxus let out a groan. Hearing that title normally was enthralling, but hearing it now, seeing Freed give up that imbued pride, not coming to him already a slave, but choosing to lower himself from his golden pedestal, all for Laxus' sake … somehow, that made hearing Freed call him that title of ultimate domination even more intense.

Freed pressed forward, pushing his mouth against those tense lips. Laxus kissed back. He pulled forward against the handcuffs, wanting to grab Freed and cling to him possessively, yet he was still at the mercy of his naughty angel.

Freed leaned back, and although he had surrendered, he still looked coldly calculating, knowing that he was in control for a little longer. Laxus' eyes turned from him, down to the arousal, and back up to Freed's face, silently letting him know what he wanted.

"Please, master," Freed begged. "Suck on me."

He crawled closer, resting his hands against the headboard as he brought his hips up to Laxus' face. Laxus licked the stiff erection, tasting that leakage, swirling his tongue around, and when he had his fun, he opened wide to let Freed slide in.

Freed had received blow jobs before, but this was different. Instead of Laxus bobbing down onto him, he had to thrust into that mouth, being in control, setting the pace, fucking his lover's mouth. He glanced down and watched himself humping into Laxus' lips.

He suddenly gasped and pulled back. He just realized that he had chained Laxus up without permission. How greedy and demanding could he get! Was he forcing this? Was it unwanted? Laxus looked up, worried about why Freed had backed away, and he saw the look of intimidation and dread.

"It's all right," Laxus whispered, trying to smile in a way to show that this was something he wanted. Freed was not forcing him against his will. "Trust me, if I didn't want this, I'd break these handcuffs and stop you."

Somehow, Freed felt that if anyone could break handcuffs, Laxus could. He nodded timidly and leaned forward again. To show him that he wanted to do this, Laxus lurched forward and took that cock, even though it meant pulling tautly against the metal chains.

"I'm totally ready to come, though," Freed warned him.

"Yeah?" Laxus lapped up the thick vein and sucked on just the head. "I'm thirsty," he growled. He sucked harder on the cock until Freed cried out from the roughness. "That food up there's crap." Laxus looked up, his lips swollen and drool running down his chin to his throat. He grinned, and Freed gulped hard at the carnivorous look in his face. "I want you to _feed me_."

"Nnngh!" Freed whined. He suddenly grabbed Laxus' head and slammed in hard, taking the pleasure his master was willing to provide.

This was incredible! Laxus was used to giving pain, but to give pleasure like this, to feel Freed's lust, his desperation, and take care of his little slave in everything he wanted…

"Oh, yes," he moaned, loving the feel of Freed's fingers tensing and his hips speeding up.

"Nngh … L-Laxus," he whined. He began to shake, losing himself, unable to feel or hear anything as his heart pounded, blood rushed through his ears, and everything concentrated inside of him to one point, a nexus of pleasure growing, surging. He slammed in harder, faster, needing more.

Laxus' eyes widened at the pain of that cock crashing into the back of his throat. He choked as his tonsils were assaulted over and over, rapidly and without mercy. He tried to talk around the penis in his mouth, warning Freed, "Unf … back … off!"

Only garbled noises got out between thrusts. It was beginning to seriously hurt, and Freed's fingers were ripping out hairs. Just before making true of his promise to break the handcuffs, Freed cried out, his hips stiffened to a halt, and his whole body shuddered.

Laxus was blasted with cum, so suddenly and so hard, he coughed and thought he felt some blow up his nose. He yanked on the chains, thrashing around that cock, not cruel enough to bite Freed just to warn him to pull back, but he could no longer breathe. The cock was pressed all the way back, blocking his air pipe. All he could do was look up through teary eyes and see that expression of bliss.

Oh fuck! He could drown in jizz for all he cared. Freed was breathtaking!

A few seconds later, the moment of glory was over, and his angel sank back to earth. Freed's hearing finally returned, muffled at first, but then he finally heard the gagging. He yanked back, and Laxus coughed with force, expelling saliva and cum.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry!" he cried out in dread. He grabbed a corner of the sheet and quickly wiped Laxus' face. He was an utter mess, but the moistness at least had not gotten onto his dress shirt.

Laxus coughed harder. "Damn, you've got some hips!" he exclaimed in a hoarse voice before more coughing wracked his body. Death by cum-drowning was probably not the best way to go. It would be hell to explain to the coroner, anyway.

"Are you okay?"

"I think my—_cough_—uvula's bruised."

"I'm so sorry." He looked around in a panic. "Let me uncuff you. Here." He clicked an emergency release latch on the handcuffs and pulled them off.

Laxus immediately leaned over and pounded his chest, coughing more. Freed handed him the sheet, and Laxus expatiated some cum out into it. Then, with a moan of pain, he rubbed out his wrists. They had pink lines on them, but nothing that would not fade with a little rest. Freed lightly touched the bruising.

"Sorry," he cringed.

"No, it's fine." He gulped hard, but he still had to cough from the pain in his throat. Finally, he glanced up and saw Freed looking fretful. It just made Laxus laugh. "Damn, you're aggressive!" he said playfully.

Freed dropped his head, trying to come up with something better than 'I'm sorry.' Laxus reached forward and cupped his face to raise his chin.

"The master of the house shouldn't bow his head like that."

"The master of the house wouldn't treat his butler so roughly," Freed countered, still looking upset.

"You're a noob. You're still learning." He gave a sigh and gazed up. Master of the house, huh? Master of his heart, at the very least. "I love you."

He suddenly grabbed Freed and kissed him. The young man grunted at the taste in that mouth, but Laxus' tongue thrust in anyway, giving a rough and needy kiss while his hands clutched tightly, crushing that thin body to make up for denying him. He rubbed up and down Freed's spine, around his rump, over his shoulders, and clung to him in desperation. Suddenly, he flipped Freed, slamming him down onto the bed, and pulled the back of his hair, yanking his head up to expose his throat. He wanted to claim this man, so hard and so violently that the bruise would stay with him until New Year. A quick shake of Freed's head reminded him, there was still a party going on upstairs. His mouth pulled back with sneering teeth.

"No," Laxus whispered defiantly. "You're getting marked!"

"Laxus, no!"

Instead of the throat, Laxus yanked himself down the bed, glared up at him from just above Freed's firm belly, and then leaned over to bite deeply into Freed's hip. Freed cried out from the pain and the pleasure of realizing Laxus was accommodating him so as to not make a social embarrassment. He shuddered as those lips sucked on the bite, pulling up blood, a painful bruise, so painful he tried to pull away. Laxus clawed at those hips to hold him down until he had a hickey that would ache all night long. Finally, with a loud pop of his lips, he raised back up and stared down at his slave in satisfaction.

"That'll do it," he said. He caressed the purple bruise, and Freed flinched in pain. "I like to see you like that, how your brow tenses up, that whine you get in the back of your throat. Fuck, if I wasn't ready to fall asleep in exhaustion, I'd fuck you all over again, rough and brutal, until you scream for me to stop."

"Laxus," he sighed, and he looked up in apology. "Too tired."

"I know," he said, and he flopped down beside him on the bed. "Me, too."

Freed curled up in his chest and kissed the rough, sharp jawline.

"Tell you what," Laxus said with utter arrogance. "When you're master of this house, we'll have one day a month: role reversal." He grinned and stroked through the green hair. "I'll be your butler. I'll call you master. Hell, I'll let you fuck me."

Freed's eyes went more massive than Laxus had ever seen them. "Wh-_What_!" he cried out, and his voice cracked from the shock.

"But…" Laxus laid a finger on Freed's nose to calm him down like a bad pet. "…not until you're master of this house. You're still a little brat." He chuckled and scratched the top of his head. "Which means you need an adult…" He yanked Freed in even closer, until their bodies were pressed together. "…to take care of you." He kissed him on the nose, chuckled at the cute blushing, and then let both of them lie back. Laxus sighed as his muscles loosened. He really could fall asleep down here.

Freed watched him with yearning eyes. "Laxus?"

He grunted sleepily.

He bit his lip, but boldly blurted out, "I always want you to take care of me."

Laxus looked at the ceiling. _Always_ was a long time. Still…

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I wouldn't mind." He smiled to himself. Thoughtfully, he repeated, "I really wouldn't mind."

Seriously, what had happened to him over these past few months? He was not the same man as before, thinking love was elusive, lust was immature, forced to believe that he would never find someone who could interest him, let alone arouse him. Now, this green-haired gay man had turned someone who thought love was a myth and made him want something … _always!_

How arrogant could he get, thinking that! He hardly even belonged in this house, let alone as a permanent fixture in Freed's life. Laxus shook his head, wanting to shove aside that desire, that little daydream of lifelong bliss, but it kept coming back to him, sweet and heavenly. He hesitantly glanced over. There was something he wanted to say, but he couldn't. Not yet. It was too soon, _way_ too soon.

"We should head up," he said, crushing down that dream for the moment. "People might start questioning. Wouldn't wanna have these _elitists _start badmouthing you. It's bad enough that you brought someone like me."

"I think that with Evergreen and her boyfriend around, you don't stand out quite so much. That guy is huge."

"He's a nice guy, that Elfman. If she decides to marry him, we'll be good brothers-in-law."

Freed cringed of the idea of his sister and that brute together, and what their children might look like. "That's a disturbing thought."

Laxus sighed silently. He thought that was one _hell_ of a hint, mentioning being brothers-in-law, but maybe it was too subtle. He rolled over and looked straight into Freed's face over the pillows. He wanted this man … so much it burned his heart. Words failed. Actions only lasted briefly. What more was there?

Cupping Freed's cheek, hoping the emotions got through, he whispered, "Aishiteru."

Freed's mouth dropped as he blushed. "Wh-what?"

"You heard me."

Freed averted his eyes. "You know, you shouldn't say that."

Laxus' brow furrowed. "Why the hell not? Am I saying it wrong? I know it looks like 'I shitty roo' but I watched a YouTube video to hear precisely how you say it."

"No, you're pronouncing it right." Freed could hardly help but laugh. _I shitty roo?_ And did he really go so far as to look up a video to get the pronunciation correct? That was sort of sweet. "It's just, in Japanese, there are different ways to say you love someone. Normally, you should say _suki desu_."

"That sounds weirder than _I shitty roo_."

"Aishiteru … it's … it's something people normally don't say," Freed explained bashfully. "It's a really strong _I love you_. It's not something you say lightly."

"I never say any romantic shit lightly."

"Yeah but…"

"Don't you think I already knew that?"

Freed jolted up. "Knew … that?"

"You're repeating me again," he scolded. Laxus looked away with a flush to his cheeks. "When I knew I wanted to tell you that … I loved you, I thought to myself, love is fucked up."

"Huh?"

"Like, English has totally fucked up the word _love_. It's just like with _fuck_. In our grandparents' days, it was called 'The F-bomb.' It was something you never said unless you were pissed as hell. Now, people say _fuck_ so much, it's more like 'The F-firecracker.' Who fucking cares if you say _fuck_? Same with _love_. I love pizza, I love horror movies, I love fast cars, you might say 'I love you' to your parents, or to old friends, or to a whole room of people when you're drunk. _Love_ isn't strong enough. I wanted something stronger than what I say to a goddamn bartender after my tenth drink. So I looked up how to say it in French and Japanese, since you like those languages. I thought, if I said it that way, it's different, it means more. Then I read about how Japanese has two ways to say it. Well hell!" he said in frustration. "I didn't want to remember _two_ foreign phrases. _Suki desu_ sounded easier to say, less likely to fuck it up, but … but then I read about _why_ there are two, that the other phrase is something stronger, deeper, something you don't say to just anyone, something you might not even say to your spouse. I thought, 'That's it! That's what English needs! Something stronger than plain old _I love you_.' So although it was hard as hell to remember how to say it right, I knew that was the word I wanted, because what I feel for you, Freed…" He furrowed his brow and kept his eyes down as he tried to find the right words, "…it's stronger than anything I've ever felt in my life. I've dated girls before, but I never felt like this with them. This … it's different. So, I don't think I'm wrong when I tell you…" He finally looked Freed in the eyes, and his voice dropped to a low, sensual, ardent whisper as he told him with all of his heart, "…_aishiteru_."

A single tear dripped down Freed's cheek as he heard Laxus' bumbling but honest words. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something back. What? I love you, too? Laxus was right. Love—the word _love_—was so overused, it had lost its power and impact.

Laxus smiled with understanding as he saw the hesitation and confusion on Freed's face. "I'm not good with words. For me, actions speak louder. If you can't say it the right way, show me." He reached forward and cupped Freed's cheek. "Show me, Freed."

"That's the problem," Freed whispered. "I don't think I could ever show you how much you mean to me. Sex? Kinks? BDSM? None of it is enough. I can't get enough, and can't give enough with just my body. Words, actions, gifts … nothing is enough!"

"Maybe not all at once," Laxus smiled. Going out on a limb, he hesitantly asked, "So how about a long-term payment?"

Freed blushed brightly. "Long … term?"

Those blue eyes gleamed at him. Laxus' hand slipped over those thin fingers and held his hand with tenderness. "Freed—"

Just then, Freed's cellphone rang. They both jumped at the tune playing.

"That's Bas' ring!" Freed exclaimed. "He rarely calls me. Oh God, don't tell me Bickslow sent one of his sex dolls flying around on helium again."

He scrambled to his pants to pull out his cellphone. Laxus put a fist to his mouth to hold back a growl of frustration.

"Bas, what is it? Huh? Oh! Um … yes, we can be up there."

Laxus was frustrated, and seeing Freed flopped sideways across the bed, lying on his stomach and talking on the phone, gave him a perfect chance to punish Freed for interrupting what he had to say. He suddenly spanked Freed hard, and the crack of his hand hitting soft flesh rang through the air. A split second later—

"Ahhhhhhh!" Freed cried out. "Dammit, Laxus! No, Bas, I … I'm f-fine." He cursed under his breath as Laxus rubbed out the sting, yet it only made the burning worse. "W-we'll be there. Yes. Yes, tell Father I'll—_nnngh_—I'll be right up soon. Th-thank you." He hung up the phone and spun around in anger. "What the hell was that for?" he shouted.

"For choosing a phone call over me," Laxus muttered. "The butler?"

"Yes." He rubbed out tension in his forehead and calmed himself. Laxus was just punishing him, and he should be thankful it was in private, not in the middle of the party. "Dinner is ready. We should head up."

Laxus climbed off of the bed and yanked on his pants. "Good. I'm starving."

Freed slowly got dressed, but he kept wondering about what Laxus had said. A long-term payment? He watched Laxus struggle back into his suit. He opened his mouth to ask about it, but he figured that now was a bad time. The mood had pretty much been ruined. In the end, he kept quiet.

"Hurry up," Laxus ordered.

Freed shoved down his curiosity. If Laxus wanted to talk about it, he would when he was ready. That was just the way he was.

"Can you get dressed?"

Freed fumbled through the clothes he had peeled off so quickly. "I think I need to leave my underwear here."

"Mmm, commando, huh?" He chuckled naughtily. "I like that idea."

"Uh … I was thinking of calling Bas and having him—"

"No, like this. It'd be humiliating." His eyes hardened, and he ordered sharply, "Do it."

His breath caught in his throat. "Yes, master." He pulled his slacks on without anything underneath, slowly zipped up the pants, and tightened his belt. Freed felt the rub of the fabric right against his scrotum, and the rubbing made him blush.

A sadistic smile slid onto Laxus' mouth. "Good boy."

They left the room and went back up the elevator, saying nothing. Upstairs, the crowd was still milling into a massive dining hall. There were round tables for the guests, but the family sat together at a rectangular table in the center. As they entered, a maid showed them over to their seats.

Liberty was chatting with Llewellyn when they came forward. "Oh! There you two are. The main course is about to be served. Um…" She looked at Laxus with trepidation. She was no fool, she knew where Llewellyn had taken them, and especially considering how long the two were away from the party, she could guess what they must have been up to. Freed at least looked fine, although a little flushed. He was not walking weird or had any visible marks. The motherly woman laughed nervously, pushing aside her worries. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you, Ma'am … Liberty."

The woman smiled awkwardly and took her seat.

Freed leaned over to whisper into Laxus' ear. "Since when do you call her by her first name?"

"She wants me to call her Liberty. Anything wrong with that?"

"N-No," he muttered. "I just thought calling her _ma'am_ sounded kind of … nice and formal."

"Well, she doesn't want it." He smirked as Freed began to sip a glass of water. "I offered to call her _Mom_."

Freed choked again on liquid. "Laxus!" All he got was a sadistic laugh and bemused smile. In front of all these guests, Freed had to hide his cough with a napkin. "So, that's what you meant earlier about marriage."

"Yeah, I teased her about that. She didn't too much like the sound of it."

Freed glanced to where his mother was giving some directions to the waiters. "Oh," he said sadly. So, his father gave them his blessing, but his mother was not completely accepting of this, at least not to that degree.

"Like I give a fuc- … ngh, _care_…" he said louder, trying to choke back the profanity. "Oh fucking hell, if I wanna fucking cuss, I'll fucking cuss."

Elfman overheard his grumbles and declared, "Manly!"

Laxus grinned up at the hulking man. "Go to hell."

Elfman just laughed raucously, glad someone else around here was not all stuck up about social appearances.

"You and Elfman are getting along," Freed noted, and Laxus just shrugged. "So, um…" He leaned over close and whispered while glancing across the table to his sister and her massive boyfriend. "Have you noticed?"

"Huh?"

"About Elfman."

"What?"

Freed looked left and right, then cupped both hands to make sure no one heard him. "He used to go to the club."

Laxus' eyes widened, he pulled back, and barely refrained from bellowing, "_What?_"

"Y-Yeah, I think he was a guy in the club. His name … well, what I called him was 'Beast Man' but … _that's him_!"

Laxus gawked over at Evergreen and Elfman. "Oh God, your sister is dating a gay man."

"Well, he might be bisexual."

"Probably is." Then something horrible dawned on Laxus. "Oh shit, does he recognize me?"

"You're probably going to go through life wondering that, aren't you?"

"Yeah, probably." It would be a curse, wondering if he would meet up with any club members or, even worse, more clients. "I don't think he remembers," he decided. "Maybe he was watching someone else." Laxus gave a slight shrug. "Maybe he just wanted to be a dancer."

Freed turned quickly at him in horror. "Okay, that's even more disturbing."

Laxus cringed. "Yeah, okay, we're not gonna think that."

"Nope."

"All right … ugh, he's staring at me." Elfman gave Laxus a tip of his glass in salute, and the thunder god awkwardly nodded back. "Oh God, he's gonna remember me, isn't he?"

Elfman's face twisted up in thought. "Hey, do I know you?"

Laxus inwardly groaned, but he casually replied for everyone else, "I'm an electrician. Maybe I worked on your … lights, or something."

"Ah, okay." Elfman turned back to a conversation down the table.

Laxus let out a quiet sigh. "He's an idiot, that's good."

Elfman suddenly choked on his drink and cried out. While Evergreen patted his back, cooing like he was an overgrown child, Elfman gazed up in horror at Laxus. His scarred face dropped many shades.

Freed rubbed out his forehead. "And he just figured it out," he whispered to himself.

"You—!"

Laxus' eyes narrowed. The two large men gazed at one another, a whole world of secrets passing between them. Silently, they understood one another. They had their secret kinks, but they also had their personal lives.

"Manly," Elfman said cautiously.

Laxus gave him an affirmative nod. "Ditto."

Elfman nodded and looked aside as he repeated, "Manly." Then both he and Laxus grabbed for their wineglasses at the same time, as if to toast the secret both hid.

"Oh God," Freed groaned. "Okay, this is just _way_ too bizarre—"

"**BABIES!**"

"And there goes Bickslow…"

"The babies are flying!" he cried out, staring around the room.

Laxus laughed at the good break in tension. "That must be a hell of an acid trip."

Although between sitting next to a stripper, sitting across from a guy dating his sister but also moonlighting at a gay bar, and his little brother doped on something strong might have made this the worst Christmas ever, Freed could only laugh.

"Oh God, I've got the most screwed up family."

Laxus reached over to place his hand on Freed's leg, worried about the chaos, but instead he saw his angelic green lover smiling as if this was the best Christmas party ever.

"You know, between everything else, you and I … we're not that weird in this family."

Laxus scoffed at that. "What? Just because we're gay? I think your brother is the weird one."

They both watched as the butler stabbed a syringe into Bickslow. Slowly, he stopped insisting that tiki dolls were flying around, and the tiki dolls were his babies. Instead, he stared off into space silently.

"My brother needs some serious detox," Freed muttered, knowing it was back into rehab for his wild brother.

Once Bickslow's maniacal laughter had stopped and he appeared to be sedated enough, the staff hurried forward with food and wine. A platter was set in front of Laxus with ham, green beans, and roasted potatoes. On smaller plates were a dinner roll and some brown lump he did not recognize, but it smelled like nutmeg and raisins.

"Well, the food looks normal … mostly." He frowned at the nutmeg lump. Seriously, what the hell was that? Why did it have a plate all to itself? That seemed dubious to Laxus.

"It's a Christmas dinner. What'd you expect?"

"How the fuck should I know?" He cringed as Liberty glared at him for cursing. "Hell … dammit … How should I know?" Under his breath, he grumbled, "Shit." He really could not hold back his mouth sometimes.

"Shall we all say grace?" Liberty asked as if she had heard nothing from him.

Everyone else bowed their heads, so Laxus did too, noticing that Elfman looked equally confused about this formality.

Llewellyn said a prayer over the food, blessing it and all who ate it. Meanwhile, Laxus poked the mysterious blob and sucked on his finger, wondering what it was. It was sweet, and he thought he tasted rum, so it had to be good. Freed elbowed him, and Laxus saw his eyes partly open, glaring over and shaking his head. Laxus pouted and sulked through the prayer that lasted way too long for his likes.

Like that man had any right to pray to a god that forbade adultery! Still, it was nice to see a glimpse into Freed's upbringing. Family dinners, saying grace: no wonder he was such a good kid.

"Amen!" the gathering said, and Laxus jolted that _finally_ it had ended. Then came clattering silverware and the sounds of eating. Laxus kept looking down at his plate, but he did not touch anything.

Freed looked over in worry. "Are you gonna eat?"

Laxus gazed back and forth around his place-setting. "Which fork do I use?" he asked quietly with determination not to shame himself anymore.

Freed laughed at such a simple problem. "Pick one. Like anyone cares."

"No, there's like a way you do this, right? I've seen this in movies," he insisted. "You start on the inside and work out, or the outside and work in. Something like that."

Freed reached over and picked up a utensil. "Try this one."

"Okay, cool. What's that called?"

"It's called a fork."

Laxus slid a glare over at him and whispered, "Fuck you."

Freed laughed and reached under the table to squeeze Laxus' thigh. "It doesn't matter. Maybe if we were entertaining the President, yeah, but for a family dinner, no one cares."

"What?" Laxus gawked. "You guys have dined with the President?"

"No, I'm just saying."

"Oh God, don't scare me like that." It was bad enough knowing he was dining with some of the richest men in the region. Laxus took his fork and poked the brown lump. "Seriously, what the hell is this?"

Freed looked over in confusion. "Christmas pudding."

"Okay, but what's in it?"

He chuckled softly. "You've never had Christmas pudding?"

Laxus glared over. "I'm Jewish."

Freed's eyes widened. "Oh shoot! Do we need to get you something other than ham? Bas! Turkey over here instead of ham!"

"No, it's fine. I'm not _that_ Jewish."

"No, it's not a problem. Trust me, there are lots Jews at parties like this. I just forgot to warn Mom."

Liberty perked up. "Something the matter, dear?"

Freed clasped his hands together to apologize. "I forgot to mention that Laxus is Jewish."

"Oh dear!" she exclaimed quietly. "The ham. I'm so sorry."

Laxus cringed. "Really, it's not that big of a deal."

Bas came forward with a plate made almost exactly the same way, but with turkey instead of ham. He swiftly took away the offending plate.

"That food had better not go to waste," Laxus grumbled with a glare at the retreating servant.

"Don't worry," Liberty assured him. "We give all extra food to the shelter. That meal will go to a needy child."

"Oh. Okay," he said awkwardly. "I guess that's good." He looked down at the plate. "So again, what the hell is this pudding?"

"Raisins, suet, treacle, rum, bunch of spices. It's really good."

Laxus took a bite and tested it. "Yeah, not bad."

"Honestly," Freed confessed softly, "it's the only thing my mom made herself. She insists upon it every year. It's an old tradition going back generations. All of us kids help, too. We each take turns stirring, and we make a wish as we stir. It's silly, I know, but it's tradition."

"You helped out?" asked Laxus. "But you haven't been back home in months."

Freed nodded down to the pudding. "That was made six months ago."

Laxus coughed and almost vomited into his napkin.

"No, seriously, it's fine," Freed chuckled, passing him some water. "That's how it's made. It has so much alcohol in it, the pudding can last up to a year."

"That's sick!"

"It's good. It's like cheese or wine; it has to age."

"I'm not eating it," he sneered in disgust.

"…Oh." Freed frowned and looked down at his plate.

Laxus saw the sadness. He had hurt Freed's feelings. "You … you helped, huh?" he muttered.

"I just tossed in some raisins and stirred," Freed muttered.

"While making a wish?"

Quietly, Freed nodded.

"What'd you wish for?"

He glanced up, and under the table, his foot rubbed against Laxus' ankle. "That I would find someone to love."

Laxus' mouth opened slightly, stunned at the wish. Six months ago, Freed was still a bashful audience member hiding in the shadows of a strip club, watching but too nervous to speak. Now, here they were, sharing the holidays together.

Hesitantly, Laxus tried another bite. "It's really good."

Freed blushed with joy. "That's great. Although, you're eating it with the dinner fork and not the dessert spoon."

Laxus set the fork down. "Oh for fuck's sake!"

"No, it's fine."

"Seriously, which one do I use for this?"

"Small spoon on the top."

"Sheesh, there's silverware everywhere: left side, right side, top of the plate. This is screwed up."

"It's not a big deal."

"It is! I don't want to look like an idiot here." He grumbled under his breath. "I feel intimidated as hell, just so you know."

"Relax. It's just Christmas dinner with the family."

Laxus paused and looked around. Llewellyn was smiling to Liberty, wearing the mask of a perfectly loving husband. Liberty took dainty bites of the ham and graciously accepted any compliments, as if she had been the one who prepared the entire feast. Evergreen was apparently also explaining utensils to Elfman, and the poor guy looked like he might accidentally bend the dessert spoon. Bickslow was licking that raisin and nutmeg mush off of his spoon.

"With the family," Laxus repeated softly, glancing around as he realized he had just been accepted into the Justine family. "Heh," he laughed, blinking his eyes before tears gathered. "Crazy."

Freed squeezed his knee again. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He smiled down to Freed. "Your family is pretty cool."

Freed looked around at his parents and siblings. "Yeah. I guess I got lucky."

Laxus kept looking at Freed. A family! One day, Freed would be master of this mansion. One day, it would be him saying grace. An hour ago, Laxus felt like there was no way in the world that he could live this sort of life.

Now … maybe he could.

Maybe it would be nice to host a party, chat with Freed's coworkers, and stir the Christmas pudding together six months ahead of time. It would be nice to exchange gifts, Hanukkah and Christmas together, take strolls through the snow, and sit by the fire while watching old black-and-white Christmas movies.

Hell … it would be nice to be part of a real family again.

"Laxus?"

He jolted at Liberty's voice and looked to the head of the table, worried that maybe he grabbed the wrong fork again, or dabbed his napkin to his lips improperly, or held his wineglass without his pinkie raised, or who knows what sorts of issues it could be. Instead, she had a gentle smile.

"Are you enjoying your time here?"

He glanced around the room, then down at Freed, who was in a conversation about French politics with Evergreen, sounding as sophisticated as a gentleman should. Maybe he was not born into this lifestyle, but Laxus wanted to be part of this family.

"Yes, ma'am," he smiled back at Liberty. "I'm enjoying it. You have a lovely home and a great family."

She smiled genteelly and told him, "You're welcome to come back any time … but only if you call me Liberty and not ma'am." She grinned sweetly at him.

Maybe it was just standard politeness, but those words struck deeply into Laxus' heart. Here was a home where he was welcome. "Thank you," he said softly, and he had to blink his eyes dry again. "Thank you very much."

She smiled and lifted her glass to him. "Happy holidays."

Laxus tipped his wineglass and replied, "And a prosperous New Year!"

He smiled reflectively as he remembered his own mother and how she would toast at special dinners. Now here was a woman who—maybe—could be a second mother to him. Laxus clinked his glass against hers, then with Llewellyn, and finally with Freed. Those turquoise eyes turned up to his and twinkled, as if Freed fully understood what this all meant. The family had accepted Laxus.

"Merry Christmas, Laxus," he said joyfully.

He reached over and boldly laid his hand over those thin fingers. "I'm glad I can spend it with you."

Freed blushed and dropped his gaze.

Laxus leaned into his ear. "You have no idea how tempted I am to kiss you."

Freed coyly glanced up. "You have no idea how tempted I am to accept it."

Laxus laughed quietly and squeezed Freed's hand. What an incredible end to the year!

**Next Chapter: "Passing Storm"**

* * *

_A/N: I made a voice recording of this chapter: _**chirb. it/P4ADFz **_(Bonus points to anyone who can name Bas' cellphone ringtone.)_

_Suki desu – I like you. (The most common form of expressing love in Japanese.)  
Aishiteru – I love you. (Soul mate to-death-do-we-part way of saying it, very rare.)_

_Christmas pudding__ – I found it hilarious when my Jewish husband first saw Christmas pudding, or plum pudding as it's called in the some regions (although plums are never used...ask a Brit why they call it that). It's especially funny when people find out it was made a month, six months, or even a year in advance. Christmas pudding has to age, soak in the alcohol, and gets sweeter as it sets._

_Jews and ham__ – I was stunned when someone asked me what's wrong with Laxus eating ham. I guess Jewish customs are not well known in other countries (lots of Jews in this part of America, so we're used to the idea of kosher food). In Jewish dietary laws, it is forbidden to eat pork, hare, reptiles, insects, amphibians, or shellfish (lobsters, oysters, shrimp, octopus, clams, crabs, etc.) as well as many other forbidden foods, or ways food is prepared. Whole books exist detailing kosher eating. Despite this, not all Jews eat kosher. I was stunned as hell when my Jewish in-laws baked a ham. My mother-in-law just laughed and said, "We're not _**that **_Jewish." So the idea that Laxus, who is Jewish by birth but not really religious, would be generally okay with eating ham is pretty normal in my experience, but so is hosting a large party with a special kosher meal aimed specifically for Jewish friends._


	21. Passing Storm

Chapter 21

**Passing Storm**

It was a gentle Spring day, flowered and breezy. Gone were the snows and cold rain, yet students looked graver in the sunshine as finals and graduation approached. Freed had gone grocery shopping, and he picked up an apartment rental magazine from the store. As he walked, instead of reading Nietzsche or Machiavelli, he browsed for a place to live once he was done with school.

He could always move back into his old home, but his mother had moved to Paris shortly after announcing their divorce to the rest of the family, and his father … Freed could not be around his father for long anymore. It was too awkward. Besides, he wanted more independence before taking over that large house and the family business. He had insisted that he would start working after graduation in a junior level, the same as anyone else. He needed the rest of the company to know that he was worthy when one day the business landed in his hands.

So he looked at apartments close to the company's headquarters. He had discussed this with Laxus, of course. Freed finally did go over to Laxus' apartment, and he demanded that he get out of that tenement as soon as possible. Maybe he was a little forceful, even whiny and sounded scared just to be there. He was not used to a place that looked dirty and felt dangerous, with graffiti outside and rats inside. He was getting used to it after he realized that, despite the building's poor condition, Laxus lived in a clean room and was respected by his neighbors. Still, they had talked about it and decided to move in together whenever Freed found a place to live that suited them both.

He crossed a few streets, walked into Laxus' dingy tenement, up a flight of stairs with flickering neon lights, and pulled out a spare key to Laxus' place. Freed felt the hallways were too narrow, the walls were bare cement, and the water pressure was weak. It was home to Laxus though, and he thought it was an improvement. If this was a step up from his last apartment, Freed dreaded to know just how bad that one had been.

He walked into the room and grinned at the blond hunched over the dining table big enough for only two.

"Hey!" he cried out. "Happy Passover, or whatever you're supposed to say," he chuckled. "I got potatoes for that kugel recipe I found online. I thought we could make that for the holiday."

"Passover was yesterday," Laxus muttered.

"It's not an eight-day thing like Hanukkah? Oh. Well, the meal yesterday was pretty weird. Traditional foods, I get it," he quickly added, not wanting to seem rude and culturally derisive, "but I really don't think I like horseradish. It didn't agree with my stomach. What was that meal called again?" He set the grocery bags down and looked over when Laxus said nothing nor got up to help him like he normally did. "Hello? Helloooo! Earth calling Laxus," he teased, but still no response. "Do you have your headphones on again? You'll go deaf, y'know."

Freed walked over to the dining table. Laxus had a glass out and a bottle of Blue Label half empty. His headphones were off, cast aside haphazardly, as if thrown in anger. Freed's brow furrowed at the tense silence.

"Hey," he tried again, softer and starting to worry. "Are you okay?"

All he got was a grunt.

Freed left the groceries on the counter and sat next to Laxus. "What's wrong? Did something happen? Something at work?" He glared jealously. "Did some jerk hit on you again?"

"N-no," Laxus muttered. He stared solemnly at the glass and its amber liquid.

Freed placed a hand on his back. "Come on, Laxus. What happened?"

After a long and heavy silence, Laxus gulped the scotch and set the glass aside. "Freed, you know I love you, right?"

"Yeah…" he said hesitantly. "Uh, w-why?"

He waited nervously for more, for bad news, some horrible thing that was about to happen. Instead, after a long and worrisome silence, Laxus suddenly looked up and smiled as if nothing was wrong.

"How about we go out tonight?"

"Out?"

"Yeah, like out to dinner. It'll make up for the whole Passover seder. You obviously weren't too thrilled with the food," he laughed tensely.

"O-okay," he muttered. "Laxus…"

The blond stood and stormed off. "I've gotta get ready," he said brusquely.

"Lax-…" In a flash, he was gone. Freed's heart sank. Something horrible was up, and he wanted to know just how bad it would be. "Laxus," he whispered, shaking as he feared that maybe…

Maybe this was it.

* * *

It was a nice restaurant, chandeliers in a vaulted ceiling, candles on the tables, waiters in tuxedos, a prodigy cello player accompanied by a man on a grand piano, the sort of place that had a menu just for the wines. Laxus wore the same suit he donned at Christmas, the only truly formal clothes he owned. Freed did not really dress up, but his usual outfit was good enough for this place. He gazed around, taking in the ambiance and idle chatter of society's well-off.

"Nice place," he said. "A rather big step up from our usual." Laxus' idea of fine dining was a Denny's, or a really fancy restaurant for him was when they ate at whatever local Italian restaurant had a coupon. It was the first time they had come to a place like this. Laxus usually scoffed at these sorts of restaurants.

"I figured I could treat _you_ once in a while," Laxus said casually. "This is more of the type of restaurant you were used to growing up, right? Good family, good food." He sliced into the filet mignon he had ordered and ate a forkful.

Freed looked down at his salmon and rice pilaf, then up to Laxus. He had kept quiet and nervous all through deciding the food, appetizers, the first courses, and now the main meal. He could barely stomach anything with his insides all in knots. Freed set his fork down and look up with firm, turquoise eyes.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" he asked sternly.

Laxus looked up. Once in a while, the aristocrat came out, and Freed showed he was a man you did not want to mess with. Laxus chewed slowly, swallowed, sipped down some wine—a little too much to be proper—and braced himself for the inevitable conversation. Just as he began to open his mouth, something changed and he bit his lip in anguish. Suddenly, he laughed to himself.

"Y'know … Christmas … I told your mom something. I was … t-teasing her," he said, and his words stumbled. His Adam's apple suddenly jolted as he swallowed back emotions and blinked his eyes rapidly. "Goddammit!" he hissed as the emotions deluged him.

Freed reached across the table and laid his hands over shaking fingers. "Laxus," he whispered.

"I … n-no…" He yanked his hand away, wiped an eye, and continued with a more steady voice. "I was teasing her. I said I could call her mom. I assured her I was just yankin' her chain." He laughed awkwardly. His eyes saddened, and thoughtfully he went on. "I … I told her … you deserved better. Better than me." He smiled in anguish and shook his head as he thought about the ridiculousness of it all. Why was he even here, in a restaurant like this, with a man whose family made more money in one month than Laxus would make in his lifetime? "God, Freed! You're an heir to a fortune. You could hook up with _anyone_."

"But I'm not…"

"I don't mean marry some chick," he assured quickly. "I mean, seriously! There's gotta be some rich guy who would want you. Someone good. Someone kind." He dropped his head and a tear slipped out. Almost too quiet to hear, he muttered, "Not me."

"Laxus!" Freed exclaimed, barely holding back from shouting. "Laxus, don't say that."

Those electric blue eyes gazed up mournfully. "I told her you deserve someone better, and you really do."

Tears dripped down Freed's face, yet when he spoke, his voice was somehow firm, demanding an honest answer. "Are you breaking up with me?"

Laxus held his gaze and replied quietly, "That depends."

"On what?" Freed yelled, but he quickly dropped his voice. "Just tell me. Is this some test? Do I have to do something? Pick my family or you?"

"No! No, I would never make you pick like that."

"Then _tell_ me. Just … just tell me." His voice faded in frailness. "How do I keep you?"

Laxus firmed up. "It'll be your call."

Freed's brow crunched. "What do you mean?"

"I'm leaving," he explained curtly. Horror filled Freed's gaze, so Laxus quickly corrected himself. "I'm not leaving _you_." His fist tensed up as he pursed his lips. "Look, Freed…" A long pause followed, with only the cello music and clamor of silverware on plates. Darkly, Laxus told him the truth. "They found my dad."

The tears stopped, his heart seemed to freeze for a few seconds, and Freed felt a bone-aching chill. The words "Oh my God" slipped out while a shiver tingled down his spine.

"He's in Greece. I'm heading out there. I got a call from INTERPOL of all places, telling me … _don't!_ They know I've been independently hunting after him. The guy on the phone said not to go, don't make it worse, don't get involved, it's not my fight. But I'm going out there. I don't care what I have to do, fake passport or what, but I'm going." His teeth clenched. "I need to find that bastard before anyone else does. I'm close to him. Real close! My P.I. knows the exact hotel he's staying in." His eyes sparked with rage. "I wanna get there _first_."

Freed listened, but it felt like a horrific dream. He knew Laxus was still funding a private investigator. He rarely _truly_ thought about it, what this obsessive years-long manhunt meant. Now he understood.

"You're going to kill him," he whispered, just a wisp of fear that never reached anyone but Laxus.

The blond gave a slow nod. "You can't be my boyfriend when I do that." He snuffed up emotions. "You can't be…" His fist tensed again, and his throat tightened until veins stood out. "You can't be tied to me in any way. Not when I do _that_."

Freed felt his world spinning. He suddenly understood how Laxus felt on transportation, sick and dizzy and wanting it all to end. But this was not ending. It was just beginning.

"You might not get caught," he said desperately. "You could make it back. No one would know. No one but me."

Laxus' lips quivered as he looked up with bloodshot eyes. "Would you _want_ me back, knowing what I did?"

Freed smiled and reached over again to squeeze that shaking fist. "I knew from the beginning that you wanted to do this. I'll admit, it kept me up some nights, especially at the beginning, wondering if … if you did this … could I still love you?" He let out a sadly emotional laugh and shrugged. "That's a hell of a question," he confessed. "Still, you told me from the very start what your plans were, and … and I fell for you anyway."

He pulled back, took his napkin, and dabbed his eyes. Laxus watched in silence, waiting for Freed's decision. He may be the _master_, but anything he did was only at the consent of his beloved _slave_. Even this, he wanted to know what Freed's opinion was. Laxus knew for some time now, the next step in their relationship, getting through this inevitable moment, was in part up to Freed.

Like a switch, the aristocrat was back, and Freed raised his head firmly. His eyes were red, his face blotched from wiping aside tears, but those eyes held determination.

"Go do what you have to do," he stated, his voice still trembling, but no hesitancy in his demeanor. "Promise me this, though. If anyone comes, and they're about to catch you, get the hell out of there! Don't be stubborn about it. Don't let them catch you. Don't … d-don't…"

The strength of that emotional dam broke. For a second, all the ugly pain showed on his face before he covered it with the napkin. His sobs brought over some attention, but people only looked briefly before politely turning away.

Laxus ached to hear the sobs. He reached over and squeezed Freed's shoulder while whispering his name. He wished there was some other way, but he had been waiting for this opportunity half of his life.

"Don't … let them … catch you … in the act," Freed said through the napkin. "Come back to me. I know you have this deep desire … r-revenge … on your father," Freed sobbed out. He yanked the cloth away and glared up. "But if you get there and you don't have time for all the … the _torture_ you have planned for him," he struggled, "you do what you _have to do_, and get the hell out of there. Okay?"

"Yeah," Laxus promised seriously.

"Promise me!"

"I promise. If things get bad, I'll end it."

Freed nodded, knowing Laxus was a man who kept his promises. He would come back. He was sure of it. "How long will you be gone?"

"That depends on him."

Laxus' words were cryptic at first, but Freed quickly realized what he meant. It depended on how long Ivan Dreyar could survive Laxus' slow torture. Freed shivered at the mental image haunting his brain, a faceless man, someone he had never personally met, tied up, bloody, with Laxus covered in splattered blood, rage in his eyes. It all came down to how long Ivan could last, and how slowly Laxus tortured him.

Emotionlessly, Laxus said, "My estimate: two months. If I'm really good at it: a year. I won't do it for more than a year," he promised. "Is that okay?"

This was like any torture scene between them. Laxus said what he wanted to do, but he always asked Freed, "Is that okay?" And just like always, Freed braced himself for the pain and nodded in consent.

"Yeah. That's okay."

Laxus nodded firmly. It was a pact between them now. "Tell everyone you know that we broke up. Everyone! Your roommate, all of your friends, your parents, anyone who knew you and I were together. Tell them all."

"But—"

"This is just in case," Laxus said sternly. "Just in case … if the worst happens, I don't want you tied to me. You _can't_ be. It'd ruin your whole family."

"I understand," Freed nodded calmly. He knew too well, someone in his position had to think about social standing. If it became known that the son of a powerful business magnate was the gay lover to a patricidal murderer, it would destroy their corporation.

"This is just temporary," Laxus insisted. "If you want me back…" Laxus sneered as his throat clenched again. Dammit, he hated the burning in his eyes! "I don't want to leave you, really, but I've gotta do this. I've been waiting my _whole life_."

"No, I get it," Freed said. He gave Laxus a nod, then picked up his fork and ate a bite of salmon.

Laxus gazed down at his beef, but he felt too sickened to eat. "Dammit," he growled softly. He picked up the bottle of wine, poured more, and drank the whole glass.

"Laxus," Freed said softly. Stern eyes blazed up, and in that voice that held command, he laid down one stipulation. "Don't change!"

Laxus was confused. "Huh?

"When you do that, and when you come back, don't be a different person. That's what scares me the most. Up until now, it's just been planning what you want. Just plans! When you carry it out … they say something like that—killing a man—can change a person."

He took a calming breath as the fears rippled through him. It really was his biggest fear. Laxus was a sadist, but up until now he had never been cruel. He did only what other people _wanted_. This would be different. When he faced Ivan, there would be no safewords, no asking if he was okay, no sympathy at all. Just murderous hatred.

Freed had to brace himself to say more. "So, when you come back, don't be different. Don't let it change you. If you think it's changing you … stop it! Just stop. Don't take it too far. Don't turn into something you're not." His voice quieted, but his smile was hopeful. "I want my master, not a monster."

Laxus held those strong but lithe fingers in his massive, rough hands. "I promise that, and I promise I'll come back to you as soon as this is over."

Freed squeezed his hand back with happiness chasing away the fears. "Okay," he nodded.

"I might miss your graduation."

"I … I know." He had been hoping Laxus could be there, but if he was going to be gone even just two months, the Spring semester would be over.

"Keep looking for a place to live," Laxus went on. "Make sure it's big enough for _two_ people."

Freed smiled sadly. "I … was going to tell you. I found a place."

"Already? But you've been looking at those renter magazines every day."

"I didn't want you to know yet. I wanted to surprise you, so I pretended like I was still searching. It's near my dad's company, it has a hot tub in the apartment, a balcony, the walls are thick—I made sure to ask, and the manager said they're nearly soundproof—they even allow pets in case you want to get a cat someday. I signed it, and I move in on the first."

"Before graduation?" he asked in concern.

"To be honest, I can't study with Loke bringing girls over every weekend. I need my own place away from him. I'll be all moved in by the time you come back." He sniffled sadly. "I'll make sure I have a spare key waiting for you."

He had wanted to move in first and surprise Laxus. He wanted to spend his first night in that apartment with Laxus making love to him. Now, the place would be empty. He would live by himself. Freed had never lived alone in his life, and the thought of it was scary. That large apartment, all alone, always thinking about him … it would be so lonely.

"Laxus," he whispered in tears, but he did not know what to say. He could not ask him to give up a lifelong pursuit that he had worked awful jobs and endured old men groping him to pay for the investigator, all for this moment, to beat INTERPOL and nab his father first, to get his revenge and release years of hatred onto that man who used his own son as a science experiment. Freed knew he could not ask Laxus not to go…

Because if he did, Laxus would stay, and then Freed would feel guilty for the rest of his life.

Laxus saw the loneliness and knew what Freed must be thinking. However, like with BDSM, he waited for the safeword. This time, the words to say to make it all stop were simple: _Don't go!_

And Freed never said it. Laxus waited, but Freed knew he could endure the pain. He could let go so long as he knew Laxus would come back.

"Let's finish eating," Laxus said quietly. "Then I'm going to take you home. I'm going to show you how much I love you," he whispered ardently, quiet enough so no one else could hear. "Nothing kinky this time. Just you and me."

Nothing kinky. They would make love like normal people, gently and filled with tenderness. The tears spilled over Freed's eyelids, but he nodded happily. Before leaving, he wanted to show Laxus just how much he loved him, an intensity so vast, kinks and words and actions could never encompass it all … but it could come close.

* * *

Kisses lingered, electrifying and moist, while hands touched so tenderly that he had to hold himself back from begging for more. He knew more would not come. Roughness was forbidden. Laxus had insisted upon that much.

Instead, his body was caressed as if those hands were mapping out every detail, and the tongue that sometimes slid into his mouth savored the tastes with low hums.

"Laxus," Freed moaned. A kiss fell softly upon his lips. "You've never been this gentle."

"Of course I have," he said, kissing Freed's mouth from every angle.

"No you haven't," he insisted with a chuckle. Laxus had the same dominant voice as always despite the tenderness.

"Sure I have," Laxus said between kisses. "Our first time."

Freed hummed in pleasure. "Not like this."

Laxus smirked as he kissed him some more. "Shut up, Greenie."

Freed chuckled at the old nickname and wrapped his arms around the broad shoulders. If Laxus was going to touch him everywhere, he wanted to touch back.

They clung to one another, just kissing and touching, nothing wild or urgent. They were savoring every second. One of the kisses lasted longer, a sense of shared emotional pain that usurped any physical pain of the past. Minutes lingered with just their lips pressed together, no tongue, no groping, just a simple kiss that never wanted to stop. When finally Laxus pulled up, he looked stunned. He honestly had never kissed a person that long before. Freed also looked surprised. Laxus had never kissed him quite like _that_. It took his breath away.

"Freed?" He wanted to speak, but his throat was dry. Even after gulping, he felt his words stick. "You're incredible," Laxus sighed, and he dived down, a rougher kiss now with a moist tongue, as if giving Freed the liquid to speak again.

Instead, the green-haired man only moaned.

"I want to make love to you now," Laxus whispered passionately. "I wanna do it like normal people."

Freed scoffed softly. "Who says I want to be normal?"

"Shut up and let me do it how I want," Laxus snapped. "Before it all goes to hell, I … I just wanna _try_ normal."

Freed understood the unspoken words. Before he became a killer, Laxus wanted a taste of what his life might have been like if he had never set on this path.

"Okay," he agreed, willing to give up kinks for a night if that was what Laxus wanted.

Laxus kissed him with a thankful smile, pulled up, and yanked off his shirt.

"C-can I ask something?" Freed questioned nervously as he fumbled with his shirt buttons.

"Sure," Laxus said, undoing his belt and pulling down the zipper on his pants.

Freed watched. No strip show. No wild ripping off each other's clothes. Just casually getting naked. Was this how normal people did it?

"Well?"

Freed jolted before speaking. "I know that, up to this point, you've been using BDSM mostly to train yourself. Consensual torture to prepare yourself for _real_ torture," he muttered. "For … revenge."

Laxus stood to pull off his pants and looked down with wary eyes. Freed's hands had forgotten about the clothes and were twisting together nervously.

"Will you still … um … _want_ stuff like that?"

Want BDSM? At the moment, he told himself that _of course_ he wanted it. A part of him wanted to hogtie Freed to his bed and ravage him until he screamed so loud, he got evicted from the tenement and maybe someone would call the cops on him. One last huzzah before leaving this dump. However, Freed asked a good question.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully.

Freed lowered his head. "Oh," he whispered.

"I've been like this for so long, but I don't know if I'll necessarily still need it. I'm not even sure if, after it's over … maybe I won't even want it."

Freed jolted and looked up. Not want it? Then again, after going to that extreme, there was the possibility that Laxus would not be able to stand the sound of someone screaming in pain.

"I honestly don't know," he admitted. "After I deal with him, I may not ever want to touch a whip again. Or it might be, after it's over, I can enjoy it more. I can finally stop thinking 'How would I do this to my dad?' Maybe I won't need it as much, or maybe I'll crave it more than ever before. I honestly have no idea how this is going to affect me."

"I understand. I mean, I guess this is pretty serious."

Laxus looked down sternly. "Do you have any idea what I'm about to do?"

"You're about to kill a man. I know that," he cringed. "I'm not saying I like it, but I know you need to. For your own sanity, you need to get over this. It's eaten away at you for too long. This revenge, it's what you've lived for all these years. It's what's kept you alive, kept you going forward. It's the most important thing for you, and I get that."

Laxus gave him a soulful gaze of sadness. The most important thing? He wanted to protest that, except…

… except, he was leaving Freed to chase after that bastard, breaking his boyfriend's heart, all for his desire for revenge. He wanted to tell himself that Freed was the most important thing, yet all it took was one email. He had not even questioned whether or not he would fly off to Greece and do this. He knew, and nothing, not even Freed begging and crying for him to stay, would have stopped him in the end.

Laxus dropped his gaze soberly. "Yeah," he muttered, feeling awful deep inside.

He wished he was a better man than this, but … he wasn't! The fact that he had bought a plane ticket before even telling Freed showed that he wasn't worthy of calling Freed the most important thing in his life. Not yet. Not until the years of anger finally left his heart and set free his soul from all the anguish. It was the only way Freed could fully own his heart.

"Undress," he commanded softly.

He continued with pulling down his boxers. He was not erect yet. Would he even be able to get hard? He had not thought about that, but up until now it was only hearing Freed crying out in lusty need and in pain that made him rise to attention. Could he even make love _normally_? He wanted to think that some part of him did not have to rely on delivering pain all the time. Some part of him had to be gentle, tender, and not sadistic.

He watched as Freed pulled off his shirt. Laxus reached down and rubbed his biceps, feeling the sinewy muscles move as Freed continued with his pants and underwear. When he tugged off his socks as well, Freed gazed up. He was stiff, ready to go. Knowing him, he had probably been erect from the first kiss. Laxus wondered if he would find pleasure that easily after this was over.

"Lie back," he ordered. Freed dropped backwards onto the pillows, and Laxus slowly followed him down. "I just want to touch you for now," he said, and he reached down, stroking that eager length. Freed seemed to brace himself for more, but the hand on him stroked slowly. "Just like this," Laxus whispered. "Just gentle."

Freed looked up into those deep blue eyes, seeing such intensity in them, as if Laxus could peer into his thoughts and read every desire. He felt more than naked under those electric eyes. Suddenly, he shivered.

"What?" Laxus teased. "Do you actually like it gentle?"

Freed blushed. "M-maybe sometimes."

Laxus chuckled deviously. "Maybe you just like me touching you no matter what I do."

Freed moaned as the fingers stroked down. "Can't deny that." Laxus' hand squeezed just a little tighter, but that subtle change made Freed groan.

"Going slow like this, I can figure out _exactly_ what you like." He stroked up and gave a faint twist right as the foreskin covered the head. Freed whimpered and his fists gripped the sheets. "Like that," Laxus chuckled slyly. "I'll have to remember that maneuver." He did it again, a firm stroke down, then pulling up with a twist at the end.

Freed felt heat pooling deep inside him, but Laxus went so slowly, it just built, more and more, hotter and deeper, sinking into him. He whimpered Laxus' name over and over, and each time the blond caught his breath a little.

"Laxus … La- … _ahhh_ … -axus! Laxus!"

"Quiet," he ordered in a low voice. "Say my name gently."

Freed opened his eyes in confusion, but he realized that he had been vocally tensing up. He let out a sigh and gazed straight into those pale eyes. Warmly and with all the love he could convey, he spoke two syllables: "Laxus."

That hardened face looked like it could melt. "Freed," he murmured. Laxus leaned over and kissed the beauty mark on Freed's cheek. "I don't want to go." His other hand stroked over Freed's cheek in anguish. "I _really_ don't want to leave you."

Freed gave an understanding smile. "But you need to," he replied.

"Yeah," Laxus whispered brusquely. "I've gotta do this."

He needed to. He had waited his whole life for this day. He had chased that bastard for so long. But now…

Now…

He used to look at his future and thought no further than getting revenge and doling out pain to that bastard who donated half of his DNA to bring him to life, a man unworthy of being called a father. He figured he could spend years slowly slicing and whipping and just watching him suffer the same torment Laxus had endured as a child.

Now when Laxus looked at his future, he saw these eyes under him gazing back, a smile, the green hair that always fell over one eye, a home together, happiness. These were things he never thought he could have. Just a few months ago, Laxus lived for training himself to be the perfect torturer. Now, he wanted to learn how to be a perfect lover.

Emotions swelled. His scar tensed as his face strained to hold back tears. He used to never cry. Never! This green-haired angel changed him so much.

"I love you!" he declared hastily as he forced his lips down, kissing Freed roughly, desperately, craving all he could get before his life changed again.

Freed groaned as his lips were bitten, sucked, and bruised with fierce passion that could no longer be kept at bay. Like a storm, it all broke and poured out. Those muscular hips thrust up against him, and he could feel Laxus beginning to get harder.

"Love you so much!" Laxus growled. His hands went up, clawing into Freed's chest, claiming him with scratches right over the nipples.

Freed moaned in pain, then suddenly cried out as Laxus' fingertips pinched, tugged, and teased his nipples. "N-no … ahhhn … L-Laxus!"

That cry was what he needed. It hit his groin with a spark of pleasure. Laxus ached. He needed this man. He needed to show him how precious he was, how rare and wonderful and utterly perfect. So many emotions clambered in his heart, and Laxus needed to express them somehow.

"_Need_ you! Now!" he sneered.

Laxus snatched a bottle of lube and slathered it onto his length. Freed saw and eagerly spread his legs. He had prepped himself beforehand in the bathroom, and he was ready. Laxus gripped himself and looked down into Freed's face. His blue eyes silently asked, and Freed gave a nod.

Laxus pressed, and Freed whimpered without restraint. He was used to it now, but it still felt incredible to be filled up, spread in a way that was pleasurable and painful at the same time. He felt that shaft slide slowly, just a little, and Laxus paused. Freed panted with flushed cheeks.

"Are you okay?" Laxus asked tenderly.

He nodded tensely until he could swallow and regain his voice. "More. Keep going."

Laxus leaned over and kissed Freed until he moaned. Slowly, his hips slid forward. Each centimeter made Freed groan a little louder and louder, until his mouth was wide open and his neck arched back. Deprived of lips, Laxus dipped down and kissed along Freed's neck, not too gently either, until tiny pink marks dotted that aristocratic throat.

Once he was fully in, Laxus paused. He gazed down again, committing every gasp and facial expression to memory. Finally, Freed looked up.

"Please," he begged. He needed more. Just sitting there was not enough.

Laxus chuckled softly with a smirk curling the corner of his lips. He eased back, then slowly slid forward again, listening to the shuddering moan. Each stroke went so slowly, so tenderly, while he watched Freed's body react.

"Wait," Freed flinched.

"Did it hurt?" Laxus asked in concern.

"W-what? No! Hell no. Just … this isn't like you at all," he pouted.

Laxus realized he was right. "What, would you rather have me spank you a few times, slap you around a bit, bite you and pull your hair?"

Freed laughed as he realized that was how they normally did it. "No, this is okay," he assured. "Just … you have such a sad look in your eyes."

"Of course I do!" he snapped. "I'm missing the hell out of you already." Never had sex been so bittersweet, knowing it was their last night to share in this. "I want to savor this," he explained, stroking his fingers down Freed's torso and gazing at the pale gleam of his skin in the moonlight. "I want to enjoy it so that even if it takes me a year, I'll remember it. And I want _you_ to enjoy it."

His hand trailed down to the erection, and he caressed just his fingertips over the inflamed skin.

"Every night when you stroke off, I want it to be _me_ you're imagining, my hands touching you. I want you to remember these hands and how they feel." He gripped Freed's cock and gave him a firm stroke. "Remember these fingers, got it!" His eyes drooped sadly again. "Don't go to strip clubs and start imagining other men. Only me, understood. Remember _my_ body!"

Freed looked up with yearning at hearing the desperate edge in that tense voice. "Laxus," he whispered wistfully.

"Be true to me for one year," Laxus demanded sternly. "If I'm not back by then, maybe the bastard got loose and got revenge on me, or maybe INTERPOL showed up and … and _shot me in the head_ or something."

Freed cried out, "Don't say that!"

"Shh," Laxus hushed, pressing him down and stroking through his hair. "I'm just sayin'. Be loyal to me for one year. We can't be dating, I can't be connected to you … but don't you _dare_ cheat," he said angrily.

Freed gasped, shocked and a little hurt that he would even think that. "No, of course not."

"Even if you're lonely—"

"No!" He grabbed one of Laxus' palms and squeezed it with both of his hands. "Just you," he promised. He pulled the large hand toward him and reverently kissed Laxus' knuckles. "Only you," he swore.

The fidelity in those words overwhelmed Laxus again. "God, I love you!"

He dived down, kissing him hard, and suddenly his hips thrust in with a powerful drive. When Freed's mouth opened to moan, Laxus forced his tongue in, attacking that mouth, claiming it, just as he was claiming this body. He felt Freed's hands clutching, clawing, leaving scratches in his skin, and Laxus groaned at the possessiveness in those hands.

Their bodies moved together, a gentle rhythmic pulsing punctuated with soft, deep grunts and Freed's higher, breathy, whimpering moans. They whispered to each other.

"I love you so much. I need you. Don't forget me. Be loyal. Remember me every night! I love you! Always. Always!"

Ardent expressions of love, fidelity, sadness, hope, expressed through bodies, words, silent gazes, and a blending of spirits unwilling to be torn asunder. Over and over, Laxus told him.

"I love you. Love you so much. _Want_ you so much!"

Freed began to pant faster, crying out Laxus' name with quivering desperation building inside. Laxus grabbed him possessively, sat up, and placed Freed on his lap, piercing up into him. Needing more, Freed used his thighs, bouncing up and down while Laxus' hands caressed everywhere, through his hair, down his spine, over shoulders, chest, legs, ass.

He suddenly pulled Freed's hair until he cried out, head forced up. Laxus snarled as he nipped hard on Freed's throat.

"L-Laxus! Oh _God!_"

Laxus suddenly yanked Freed off completely and sat him back down on the mattress. The green-haired man looked up in wide-eyed surprise and carnal desperation.

"Not yet," Laxus whispered. "I want this night to last."

The desperate need to be fulfilled slowly subsided, and Freed gradually smiled, remembered something from the past. "Until sunrise," he requested.

Laxus laughed, and his cheeks tinted a faint pink. "You remember that?"

"Yeah," Freed said with a light grin. Their first night together! "You kept me going until sunrise. I didn't think I could."

Laxus picked him up again, sat Freed on his lap, but this time their cocks only rubbed gently against one another. "Let's do it again," he decided. "Until sunrise."

In happiness, Freed softly kissed Laxus and gazed deeply into his eyes. Then he hungrily lurched forward, frotting up against Laxus as they urgently kissed one another. Freed's hand reached down and began to stroke both of them together, but Laxus pulled it away.

"Gently," he warned. "I want us to last."

"Yeah." He bashfully laughed at how eager he was. Slowly, Laxus began to lean him backwards onto the pillows. Freed hummed as that warmth followed him down. Breathlessly, he sighed, "Until sunrise."

* * *

Slowly, Freed opened his eyes. Blankets were pulled up to his chin, and a large arm draped over him. Against his bare back, he felt the slow rise and fall of a chest.

"Laxus?" he murmured.

A sleepy hum answered.

Freed lifted his head only enough to see a clock. "It's almost noon."

He got only a grunt in response.

When Freed began to pull away, Laxus let him go. Slowly, he sat up in bed and stretched out his limbs. Maybe they made love gently this time, but it still left him stiff. As he stretched his leg, a thigh muscle cramped up, and Freed hissed in pain.

"Y'okay?" Laxus asked, finally rousing himself.

"Stiff," he muttered, rubbing out the leg. "Doing it for that long, it's not surprising that every muscle in my body aches."

Laxus gave a soft chortle. "You were the one who said _until sunrise_," he shrugged as if to claim innocence.

He had, and they did. Slowly, sometimes making their bodies one, sometimes pulling apart and only kissing, but in one way or another they did not stop touching, moaning, whispering, and loving until the sun turned the sky pink. Then it was over, a messy and needed conclusion, still tender and filled with words of love, but Freed could have gone without it if it meant they could keep going and never stop.

"I … I didn't want it to end," he admitted.

Laxus sat up and shifted over to sit beside him. "Sex always has to end at some point, but love doesn't have to. I can make love to you until sunrise, but I'll keep loving you long after. Sex is corporeal. Love can be eternal."

Freed looked over in surprise. When the hell had Laxus become poetic? "Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?"

"Fuck you!" laughed Laxus.

He pinched Freed's arm in punishment for ruining the moment. Playfully, Freed slapped his hand away and aimed a tickling finger to Laxus' ribs. He grabbed the hand before it could reach its destination, and for just a few seconds they wrestled, one muscular and strong, the other lean and quick. They both laughed and leaned into one another, wrapped up in each other's arms and resting their noses together. Outside, the clouds hid the midday sun, and the day looked like it would be wet again: April showers that brought May flowers.

"When did we become such lovesick idiots?" Laxus asked, gazing into Freed's eyes.

"Maybe we always were, in one way or another."

"Not like this." He nuzzled against Freed's nose. "This is new."

"I like it."

"Yeah … yeah, somehow … this is good, too."

Plain, normal sex, love, fidelity … things he never thought he would find!

"I'll keep loving you," he swore softly. "After this day is over, and until I get back. Just you!" He gently stroked his fingers through Freed's hair. "When I get back, we'll do this again. I'll make love to you all night, until we watch the sunrise together." A tear dripped down, and Laxus reached up, stunned by the wetness. When had his eyes begun to water?

Freed saw those emotions he tried to suppress and control now leaking out. They were so powerful, even this dominant sadist could not hold back a few tears. As for Freed, that one tear burst his emotions apart. His lips began to quiver, and his eyes went watery and bloodshot.

"Laxus," he whimpered, snuffling as his heart ached already.

"I know!" Laxus grabbed Freed into his arms, letting him crying into his chest and kissing his hair over and over. "I don't want to go," he sneered.

"You have to," Freed shouted. "You … you need this. I know that."

This level of understanding and acceptance was something Laxus felt he did not deserve. "You have every right to be mad at me," he muttered.

"I'm … not. I'm sad, but … but I'm not angry. Deep down, I know. This is your goal, your life's pursuit. You need to do this." He nodded to himself and wiped the tears. "You go. I'll wait." He looked up firmly into Laxus' eyes. "I'll keep waiting for you. When you come home, I'll have a place for you to live. We'll live together."

"Heh! Yeah." Laxus loved that such a sweet dream was about to come true, although there was a slight darkness to his dream of happiness. "You'll take care of things here, right? I already hired movers. They'll get the junk out."

"You told me. I'll be here to let them in."

"I'm leaving the key to the storage room with you. It's on your keyring already. Everything gets donated, dumped, or tossed into storage. I don't care about the clothes."

"I'll handle it," Freed assured. "Just think, you won't have to live here anymore."

He glanced around at the torn wallpaper and stained carpet. "Gonna miss the old dump," he admitted. "Well, I entrust you with my life's fortune, penurious as it is." Laxus nervously tapped his hand on his thigh. "One last thing."

He got up, walked over to a sock drawer, dug down to the bottom, and slowly pulled out a small box. He cupped the box in his hand and gazed down nervously at it. Hiding it from view, he hesitantly walked back to the bed and sat down.

"I want you to have this. It isn't much, but … well, you can take it as a _sorry for running off_ gift."

He pulled the box forth and opened it. Freed's mouth instantly dropped when he saw a silver ring inside. He looked up into Laxus' face utterly speechless.

"It's not an engagement ring!" Laxus said quickly, realizing he was too nervous for something this simple, and Freed might get the wrong idea. "It's a promise ring. It means you won't date or have sex with anyone else. For this, what I'm about to do, we need to be broken up. Legally! I could seriously fuck up my life, and I don't want you to be brought down with me."

"I know," he assured. He understood just how serious this was.

"Still, I want you to stay loyal. Maybe that's greedy, but I don't fucking care!" Laxus snapped. "There is no way in hell I'm giving you up for that bastard, and all this—us breaking up—it's just a legal thing, an alibi for you. That's all."

"I'm not mad, really. I get it," Freed assured him.

Laxus took the ring out of its padded slot. "I want you to wear this and promise. Promise that you'll wait for me." He looked down at the ring, and as he felt a tear escape unwillingly, he looked into Freed's eyes with worry. "Is that asking too much?"

"No!" Freed exclaimed. "Of course not."

Freed took the ring and looked at it. It was simple, just a plain silver band, but as he turned it in his hand, he realized there was one decoration to it, a lightning bolt of gold etched into the band. He looked down at that golden design and laughed moistly through tears. His thunder god! Then he saw inside the band were words etched into the silver: ONLY YOU, and GREENIE.

"I'll wear it all the time," he declared, clutching the ring to his chest.

Laxus felt his heart leap in a jolt, as if Freed's happiness was the lightning to his thunder, the flash of brilliance that made his whole body rumble and roar. "I … uh…" He swallowed hard so he could speak through a throat that kept tightening as he tried to keep from crying. "I have … um … this." He went back to the same dresser and pulled out another box. That ring was also silver, but instead of a gold thunderbolt, it had etched in its band a rapier sword. The inside read ONLY YOU also, but then the word THOR.

"Matching rings!" Freed cried out. It was so cutely cliché, but it also made him incredibly happy.

Laxus wanted to protest. They weren't matching! He picked those etched designs himself, as well as the engraved words (they were a free option when you bought two rings). However, he blushed and looked away to hide his embarrassment.

"Y-yeah," he muttered. "I wanted you to know, when I'm gone, when I'm out there in Greece, I'm not going to be disloyal to you. This ring is my promise," he said, slipping the silver band onto his right hand. "I promise that I'll come back to you."

Freed sniffled and let the tears flow down his cheeks. He nodded with lonely pain already building in his heart. "I promise, too."

That oath made Laxus sigh in relief. He took the ring, picked up Freed's right hand, and slipped the silver band over his knuckles.

"It's a little tight," Freed frowned as the ring made a snug fit.

"I always thought your fingers were so small," Laxus admitted. "Is it okay?"

"Yeah, it fits," he assured, flexing his fingers to make certain. "I'm not sure I can take it off again without vasoline."

"Good! I hope it's a little painful, just a little snug … like your cock ring," he smirked.

The comparison made Freed instantly blush. Now he would never be able to think about his promise ring being tight without remembering _that_.

"Even when I come back, I want to keep on wearing these." Laxus placed his hand over Freed's so that their rings clinked together in a metallic chime. "Or … maybe something else," he muttered.

Freed jolted and looked up. Something else? Something more?

"_Maybe_," Laxus stressed.

Still, that possibility made Freed grin and hide a laugh of joy. More! More than this. Different rings! Rings that held a deeper meaning.

Laxus saw that happiness, and he impulsively began to speak. "Will y-…?" However, the question clenched in his throat. He couldn't ask! Not now. Not when he had to leave. It was not fair to Freed.

"What?" the green-haired man asked when Laxus said nothing more.

"Nothing," he grumbled. "Something for another time. For now—" He picked up Freed's hand and kissed his knuckles right over the silver band. "—wear my ring, and don't you dare forget me."

"Never!" Freed declared, squeezing those massive hands that had given him intense pain and tingling pleasure. "I could _never_ forget you." He leaned over and kissed Laxus' rough hand over the promise ring. "I'll wait for you, for as long as it takes. I'll be here, and I'll be waiting."

Another tear broke free and slipped down Laxus' cheek. "Dammit, I really _don't_ deserve someone like you."

"Too bad," Freed grinned brashly. "You're stuck with me now. I really won't be able to get this ring off, so you're trapped. Your fault for getting a ring that's too small."

"Bitch," Laxus chuckled, ruffling up the green hair. "Now, lie down again. Close your eyes. I don't want this goodbye to be more awkward than it already is, so … obey me this one last time and pretend you're asleep."

"Wha-…? No!" Freed cried out. "We can have breakfast together, I'll drive you to the airport, I can—"

"Freed," he said sternly, and the young man's words dried up. "It needs to be like this."

Sadly, he realized this was just like their first night together. Laxus had simply slipped away while Freed wasn't looking.

"It'll be okay," he smiled confidently. "Just pretend you're asleep. When you open your eyes, I won't be here, but my heart … it'll always be here with yours."

Freed took comfort in that and braced himself. He stiffly laid down, struggling to stay brave and keep his emotions under control.

"All right. Close your eyes."

Freed did. He heard Laxus rummaging around, pulling on clothes, peeing in the toilet, and dragging out a suitcase he had already packed.

The last thing Laxus grabbed were his plane tickets. He looked down at the information detailing a flight from Magnolia to New York City, and then on to Athens, with a final destination in Kalamata. It was under another name; his ID, passport, and Visa were all under a fake name. If he got caught…

He gazed back down to Freed. This was the sort of trip he would have loved to take as a vacation with Freed, explore the old Grecian ruins, taste the savory foods, cruise around the archipelago, maybe climb a mountain just for the hell of it, and kiss on a Mediterranean beach at sunset. Instead, he was leaving, and he had no clue what sort of man he would be when he returned.

He walked over to the bed, leaned over, and softly kissed Freed's cheek. "Good night," he whispered. "See ya around, Greenie." Then he grabbed his bags and left his old tenement, knowing he would never step foot in that building again.

Freed heard the door shut. Still he waited, listening to the footsteps fading down the corridor. Sobs began to shake him, but he wanted to hold back. Tears moistened the pillow under him, but he wanted to obey Laxus' last order, to pretend he was asleep.

Despite his pride, he began to sob. He grabbed Laxus' pillow and buried his face into it. He inhaled the musky scent, felt that familiar warmth in the blankets, and the ache in his body, so many marks where Laxus had claimed him, reminded him of last night.

It was disappearing. Like those footsteps, the smell and warmth and ache were all fading away.

He sobbed harder, hiding his head with the pillow as he began to wail. It was over. Laxus would be gone, months, maybe a year. He had to tell everyone that they broke up. At the same time, he had to watch over clearing out this old tenement and storing everything that belonged to the man he loved.

"Laxus!" he cried out.

He already wanted him back. He wanted his help, his direction, to be ordered around, punished, teased, humiliated, loved, cuddled, kissed with passion that lasted for ages. He cried his name over and over as he shuddered with sobs.

He was gone.

The thunder faded.

The storm had passed.

**Next Chapter: "****The Lonely Angel"**


	22. The Lonely Angel

Chapter 22

**The Lonely Angel**

"Freed Justine."

Freed wore the traditional academic regalia, a cap and gown, with a stole, cords, and medallion for various honors and for graduating _magna cum laude_. As he came forward and walked across a stage, he heard Loke roaring wildly while his family applauded politely. He shook hands with the university dean and accepted his diploma. There were a few more dignitaries to shake hands with, a photo to take, and then he walked down some steps with the next graduating student already being called up.

Just like that, he transformed from _college student_ to a graduate with his bachelor's degree in business. However, as he returned to his seat in a sea of square caps and long robes reminiscent of ancient European universities, he did not look as happy as he probably should have been.

There was one person missing that day. He looked down at the silver band with the gold lightning bolt etched into it and offered a silent prayer that Laxus was safe.

Like they had planned, he had told his friends and family that he and Laxus broke up. His mother called from Paris and said he would be better off with someone of his own social standing; she then listed off many available people, females and males. His father gave condolences and told him to be cautious while finding another dominant. Bickslow and Evergreen seemed truly heartbroken. Apparently, they both had really liked Laxus. Loke offered to hook him up with someone, but when he saw that Freed was not interested in dating yet, he took Freed out to get drunk instead.

No one seemed to notice the ring on his right hand, or if they did, they said nothing about it.

The graduation itself was a haze of speeches, names, applauding, more speeches, and finally a roaring cheer as they were dismissed. Freed was dragged into pictures with classmates, his fencing club teammates, and his family who were proud that he was now _a real adult_. Both of his parents had come, putting aside their marital issues for the sake of their son. It was nice to see them together, but Freed sympathized with his mother. If something like that happened between him and Laxus…

If he found out Laxus had cheated on him…

Freed jolted and shook his head as soon as the thought entered his mind. It seemed ridiculous. Laxus was deeply loyal. It was his idea to get the promise rings.

Was he worried that Freed would cheat? Was that why he bought the rings? Was he afraid that the same thing that happened to Llewellyn, the same craving to be dominated and humiliated, would flow through Freed's veins like some sort of family curse?

"Freed!"

He jolted and looked over. It was the man who graduated top in their class, a man who, so it was rumored, could memorize absolutely anything by seeing it just once: Rufus Lore. Freed had admired him for some time, a legend in the school with his perfect grades and mysterious aura. This man came up to Freed and, instead of shaking hands, gave a courteous old-fashion bow.

"Congratulations to you, Freed. You definitely deserve the _magna cum laude_. I had the honor of reading your thesis on business paradigms in sixteenth century Japan and its application in modern day pan-Pacific import and export. Fascinating historic detail!"

"That means a lot coming from you, Rufus," Freed said, feeling truly honored that this legendary scholar was pleased with his hard work and in-depth research. That thesis had taken months to write.

"I see a lot of potential in you. I would _love_ to sit down and discuss economic theory with you. Perhaps—" His hand lightly brushed over Freed's wrist. "—lunch some time."

Freed looked at those delicate hands. He dared not offend this man from the powerful Sabertooth Enterprises. A business arrangement between him and the Justines could be beneficial to their corporation, but Freed cringed at the touch of this man's cold hand.

"S-sure, lunch," he said awkwardly.

A devious smirk curled into Rufus' lips. "Come now, don't feel intimidated by me. Not _yet_, at least," he added cryptically.

For some reason, Freed's stomach twisted. Was this man actually flirting, or was it his imagination?

"Perhaps next week," Rufus offered. "I have family affairs to attend to this weekend."

"R-right. Same here, Mother's in town and … um … anyway," he muttered, not wanting to babble like an idiot. "Whenever is good for you."

Rufus had an amused gleam in his eyes. "You're quite a complaisant one, aren't you?"

Freed jolted. "Huh?" He was not expecting something like that. Was that a compliment? An insult? Why was Rufus smiling that way?

Rufus pulled out a card and handed it to Freed. "Email me. We'll set up a date."

Freed felt his stomach twist again. Date? "Just lunch, right?" he asked warily.

"Of course! Just lunch and talking. I look forward to seeing you again." Then he turned and was lost in the throng of graduates and families.

Freed held the card in his hand and stared at it. Softly, he muttered, "What the hell just happened?"

Liberty slipped up beside her son. "Rufus Lore of Sabertooth. Quite a fine gentleman. I hear his … ahem … _preference_ is for men of a more … delicate frame. Just like you."

"Mother!" Freed snapped.

"I'm just trying to be supportive. Rufus is a man of the highest calibre. I would not disagree with a … umm … _partnership_ between his family and ours." She laughed tensely. "He was one of the fine gentlemen I suggested, if you recall. A powerful family, a handsome young man with a bright future ahead of him. Really, what more could you ask for?" She looked at him, but Freed's jaw was tense. "My dear, you can't wallow in sadness. Believe me on this: it's best to move on, no matter how deep the love once was. Once it's over, it's gone. It's best to keep moving forward and upward."

"Upward?" he sneered. Was that all she thought about: finding a person of higher status, like climbing some corporate ladder of relationships?

"It happens in relationships as well. It sure did for me. You start at the bottom sometimes—a young and awkward boyfriend with puberty issues, a fling with a tramp, a man who is godlike in appearance but has no manners—and you work your way up until you find that perfect gentleman. I just wish I could say your father was perfect. The man I'm courting in France is—let's just say—a _large_ step up for me." She smiled proudly of moving upward, although Freed hated to think that his parents had already found new partners, as if those years of marriage meant nothing. "Laxus left you—God knows why he would be that stupid—but this just shows how much he didn't comprehend your true value. You were the best he could ever hope to obtain, and he left you in tears out of his own selfishness. I'm sorry if that was a painful shock, I'm sure it was, but now…"

"Mother, stop it," Freed warned softly to avoid attention. "Seriously, stop. Right now. Never speak of him again if you're going to say things like that."

She gave him a hug. "Oh, my poor boy! There's no shame in finding someone better. That's what dating is all about: figuring out what you like, what you don't like, making mistakes before there are legal complications, and eventually finding that person you can love and who loves you even when you're not hiding your true self behind the mask of social propriety."

Freed yanked himself away from her. He knew she meant well, but he hated that she thought so little of Laxus. If he had been rich, grew up attending prep schools and gotten a Harvard degree, would she be this callous?

She was missing a big point, too. With Rufus, Freed would have to hide his true self, that inner masochist who wanted to be spanked and called a bitch and made into a slave. He could never admit things like that to a gentleman like Rufus. Laxus was the only one who not only accepted that side of him, but thrived upon it.

He could never cheat on Laxus. It did not matter how long he was away. He loved Laxus, and he would wait for him. Rufus or any other _fine gentlemen_ were not what Freed wanted. He wanted his thunder god!

* * *

After it was all over, they had a gathering with the family in the same restaurant where Laxus had taken him that one night. Freed politely listened to his mother tell him about a clinic she had opened in Paris, while his father told him all about the job Freed would be starting in two weeks. That gave Freed two weeks to vacation and _enjoy his hard-earned freedom_ before starting his adult life as a working man.

He had wanted to start truly at the bottom, working in the mail room or as a secretary. Instead, his father placed him in a junior managerial position. Llewellyn swore it was a legitimate opening; a man had left their company for a better job and the position needed to be filled anyway. Freed actually did have to compete with two other applicants, but his _magna cum laude_ degree was what gave him the edge. Being the son of the CEO was not the only highlight to his job application.

Freed listened quietly, ate obediently, and acted as a proper son should. It was an act he had perfected over twenty-three years. At the end of the night he said farewell to his estranged parents and two siblings. As he walked to his car, he got a text from Loke along with a picture of the ginger playboy wearing a sombrero with three ladies clambering over him.

_Come join the fun_, the text read. Freed shook his head in amusement and wrote back, _Going home. Don't forget protection._

He drove home listening to a classical music station. Mozart's _Flute Concerto Number 1_ came on. Freed glanced down to the radio. He remembered, this was the song playing that first night when he had taken Laxus with him for some after-work private time. The flute music had helped to calm down Laxus' stomach. After that, Freed had bought many CDs of flute music to play while driving so Laxus could rest at ease. He wondered how that carsick man handled flying on a plane all the way to Greece. Did he remember his headphones? Did he bring some flute music along?

A tear beaded up in Freed's eye, and he blinked it away. There had been no phone calls, no texts, no emails. Laxus truly had cut off everything that tied them together.

Freed pulled into an apartment complex. He had moved in a while ago, needing privacy as he finished his thesis and studied for finals. Now, there was no need to spend the night studying until he passed out. There was nothing to busy his mind. The place felt empty.

Freed walked into the bedroom and changed out of the suit he had worn for graduation. He collapsed naked onto the bed and pulled up his phone.

He had gotten a call from Bob a few weeks ago. He had no idea how that old, bald, cross-dressing bartender found out that Laxus left the country, but Bob wanted to see Freed. He went to the South Pole Club after hours, not wanting to watch the show. He had promised Laxus, no strip clubs. Once the crowd left, Freed entered to find just Bob cleaning things up. The astute bartender instantly noticed the promise ring, encouraged him to wait for Laxus, and gave him a flash drive. He said, "Don't ask how I got it, just enjoy it."

There were pictures of Laxus on it and a video of his show, just him. Freed held up his phone while lying naked in bed. The pictures were of Laxus. In most of them, he was shirtless, just wearing those leather pants, either flexing his muscles or reaching down to his crotch. They were photos for a website promotion, it seemed. Freed gazed at a closeup of his face, that scar, those vivid blue eyes, and he kissed the screen.

"I miss you," he whispered to the picture.

Then he pulled up the video. It started off shaky, but it stabilized as soon as the yellow lights flashed. AC/DC's _Thunderstruck_ blared, and Laxus was on stage. He danced, stripped slowly, and thrust his pelvis in time to the music. Freed's hand drifted down to stroke himself as the song played and Laxus used the brass pole to slide down. The move showcased his large leg muscles and tempted the audience, his knees spread apart, giving a view of the prize wrapped in leather. Freed's fingers squeezed himself and gave him pleasure as he watched the show he had seen dozens of times.

Then, it seemed like Laxus' attention was diverted for just a second. Suddenly, his dancing became more erotic. He did maneuvers Freed knew he normally did not do, like stroking himself through those leather pants, all the time his attention drawn to the side.

It was _that day_, the first time Freed had returned to the club after his night with Laxus. He had startled the dancer, but that night Laxus had danced for him alone. As the finale came on, Laxus turned to the side. The camera shifted, and Freed saw himself in the video, sitting in his normal booth and staring with a martini in his hand and a gleam of pure lust in his eyes. Whoever was shooting the video—it had to be Bob himself—knew there was something going on between these two. As Laxus lowered his zipper more and more, that bulge was aimed for one man.

"Laxus," Freed groaned, feeling the music and those movements hammer into his groin, just like it always did when he went to the club.

That was the end of the song, but not of the video. The other half of the video was in black and white, a security camera that had captured that night in the VIP room. Everything. Absolutely everything. From Laxus dancing on top of Freed until he came in his pants while wearing a condom, then a bad skip while they had left so Freed could clean up, and then they were back.

Freed watched it all while stroking himself. It was weird, getting off to a video of himself, but he remembered everything about that night. It had been Laxus' first blow job. He watched it play out, every hair pull, every sneer of pleasure, and the soundless conversation that his memory filled in.

_"I told you, don't you fucking stop!"_

_"I'll drool on you."_

_"Then drool. Make it wet. Make my whole damn crotch wet. I want your spit in my pants, got it?"_

Freed tensed as he watched Laxus' face and all of the expressions of pleasure that showed. He heard in his mind that low voice and the groans Laxus gave as he built up to a climax.

_"You're damn good. Freed … Greenie! Speed up and make me come, bitch!"_

Freed watched Laxus' face, the opened mouth, and the silent moans of pleasure trembling through him. He could see that critical moment when Laxus lost control, when lust won, and he saw his own face as he gulped down the dessert he worked so hard to get. He watched and fondly remembered the bitter taste as it poured over his tongue.

He had swallowed wrong that day. He saw in the video, he had to cough, but that action, swallowing his cum down, had pleased Laxus.

Then he watched some more. Laxus had given back. He had been uncertain since it was his first time sucking off a man. As he recalled, Laxus had issues with it, some sort of a flashback to childhood that made him panic. Laxus later explained how, after the issues with his nefarious father, Laxus could not easily allow something large to enter his mouth. It made him remember the gag his father had used to keep Laxus from biting his tongue as he administered medicines that caused excruciating agony throughout his body. Even after that day, it took a few times before Laxus could give a blow job without flinching from those awful memories.

That day in the VIP room, they had acted out a scene to cover up Laxus' brief freak-out. Eventually, he had calmed down and acted more forceful, wanting to do this, to overcome his fears and give back the pleasure Freed had given to him. Freed had purposely angled himself for the camera, just in case they were being watched. Laxus wanted to show Jellal that he could do more than strip, and obviously _someone_ had saved this video. It made for an amazing display, too. Freed watched himself, how Laxus' mouth worked on his arousal, and he imagined that incredible sensation.

"Laxus!" he cried out into the silent bedroom. "L-Laxus!"

He watched and vicariously recalled how good it felt: that wet mouth, his tongue, how he sucked so hard on the head, and how Laxus liked to reach down and tug lightly on Freed's balls. Freed did the same action now, but it wasn't the same, not quite as good as those massive, rough hands.

His body started to tense up, and he stroked faster. He began to feel lightheaded as his breathing became erratic and his toes curled up, but he held back. The video was almost at that spot. He wanted to wait for it, to hold back until Laxus finished with him … at least in the video. His cock was dripping, but he steeled his stomach muscles to keep from coming too soon.

He saw Laxus grab his ass, pulling Freed in closer, swallowing him down hungrily, just as the video showed Freed tense up and cry out. At the same time, Freed moaned loudly and released his reserve. He came into his hand with a moan. Milky spurts arced out and splattered on his naked torso as he shivered and remembered his thunder god.

"Laxus," he groaned softly in lingering pleasure. "Mmmh … Laxus."

His body buzzed, and the video kept playing. There was not much more to it, though. They had kissed and cuddled for half an hour after that, touching each other, teasing one another, but not much more. It was nice to watch them being sweet together, but the real show was at the beginning.

Freed turned off his phone and set it aside. He stared up at the ceiling while the afterglow still buzzed through him.

Somehow, he would get through this. He did not need a man like Rufus. He did not need another dominant to be his master. That day in the VIP room, Laxus told him, "_You're mine. Mine alone. A slave can't have two masters, so you're only mine. My beloved slave._"

Freed touched the promise ring, now coated with cum, and smiled to himself. He had his memories, and they would last a lifetime. What were two months, or even two years, with the promise of a lifetime together to look forward to?

**Next Chapter: To Guys  
**


	23. To Guys

Chapter 23

**To Guys**

Loke dropped a heavy box and straightened up with a groan as he rubbed out his back.

"Well, this is the last of the stuff," he said.

Freed set a box down beside him. "Thank you so much, Loke."

"It's no problem," he smiled at the green-haired man. "Although I don't get why you'd take all of this out of storage now. It's not like you can't afford the monthly fees, and this new apartment was really clean. It's like moving in all over again, except without the professional movers."

"Yeah, I … I couldn't use them," Freed muttered, looking around at the mounds of boxes. "If my father checked my credit account and saw that I hired movers again, he'd ask."

"So? Tell him you were moving Laxus' stuff in."

Freed glanced down at his ring. "I … can't. I can't mention Laxus, not to my father."

"I see," Loke said awkwardly. "Daddy disapproves, huh?"

"_Daddy_ actually gave his blessing," Freed smiled, thinking about the key to the playroom that he still had. "What _Daddy_ doesn't know is … is that I'm … um…"

"That you're waiting for him?"

Freed looked up sharply.

"Hey, it's me," Loke said with a friendly smile, holding his arms out nonchalantly. "I've been your roomie for almost four years. I knew right away. I also know the real reason you moved away before finals. Staying in the dorm with me was too much. You lost your V-card on that bed."

Freed blushed. "Shut up. That wasn't the reason, either. I had already signed the lease _before_ Laxus said he was leaving."

"So then it really was all the late nights with chicks and smell of condoms, eh?" Loke laughed.

Freed knew he was joking, so he decided not to tell Loke that all the distractions with Loke's prolific sexual activity _really was_ the reason he moved out early. Then again, knowing Loke, he knew that was the true reason from the very beginning.

Loke went to the kitchen and grabbed two sodas. "Even crammed full of crap, this place is huge. It's big enough for two people." He handed one soda to Freed and straddled the arm of a couch. "Hell, maybe I'll move in, keep you company, liven things up around here."

Freed shuddered. "I don't think so, Loke," he said softly.

The ginger laughed good-heartedly as he cracked open the soda. "Kidding! I need my own place, strike out, build a love-nest for the ladies," he said with a wink. "We're working men now, you and me. Thanks a bunch for getting me that job, too. Sheesh, I was turned down everywhere. A diploma means jack-squat these days."

"I'm glad I could help you out," Freed said, and he took a drink of the soda to cool off the summer sweat.

"Like they say: it's not what you know, it's who you know. Being college roommates with the CEO's son has some perks," Loke grinned. Suddenly, he jolted as he realized what he had just said. He raised his hands up defensively. "Not that I'd abuse that. Hell, I just wanna pay off the student loans. If I can work my way up the corporate ladder, all the best, even if that means leaving you for a competitor one day."

"No company loyalty?" Freed chuckled with a joking scowl.

Loke stood, walked over, and clasped a hand on Freed's shoulder. "I'm loyal to friends, not to corporations. I've got your back, Freed. Being thrust into the role of a junior manager must suck, so if you need time to chill out, forget your duties, I'm always up for a night of drinking and debauchery."

Freed just smiled, which was enough for Loke. He knew that sometimes Freed just did not know what to say, and that was fine.

Loke clicked his soda can against Freed's. "You were a good roomie."

"Yeah, you too."

"We had some wild times in that university, huh?"

Freed hummed in agreement and looked down to his hand. He twisted the ring as he remembered some of those _wild times_.

Loke eyed that silver band. He noticed it right away, before Freed said he and Laxus had broken up. He had politely kept quiet about it until now. "Is that _his_ ring?"

Freed suddenly hid his hand behind his back.

"I think everyone has seen it. Only the idiots don't realize what it means. You can tell all the lies you need to; I know you're waiting for him, and he gave you that ring, so he's waiting for you." He wrapped a friendly arm around Freed. "That huge lug loves a scrawny wallflower like you. He'll come back some day."

Freed struggled with a smile. He glanced around at the boxes, all of Laxus' stuff, everything that had been in storage. He needed something to keep his mind busy while on these two weeks of holiday, so he had decided to move Laxus' stuff in and sort through it, find places for everything, maybe buy some extra furniture, and decorate his room. The apartment had two bedrooms, but he already figured that they would sleep in one room and use the other for _pleasure_. Their own personal playroom!

Sorting boxes would help to pass these sorrowful days. It hadn't even been two months, but he felt lonely.

Loke pouted at seeing the longing in that sallow face. "Hey!" he shouted. "Come with me. A night of drinking and dancing. I'll introduce you to some friends, just hang out, all guys."

"I … I dunno…"

"Come on! We never had a let's-get-drunk-off-our-asses celebration for both of us getting new jobs. Besides, after moving all this crap, you owe me a beer."

Freed laughed and said, "Fine."

"Awesome. I'll call up some guys. No girls allowed. Hell, maybe you'll even have some fun," he grinned, and Loke whipped out his cellphone. He dialed a number and chatted on the phone. "Natsu? Yo, it's me. Are you free for drinks? Cool, and bring that guy. Yeah, the pub on Main Street, that one with the not-crappy bands. Awesome, see you at seven." He smiled at Freed. "I'll support my new junior manager. Booze and babes! Or booze and brawny boys for you, I guess. A night for just us, celebrate, hang out, be crazy idiots once again. Not like you were ever that way to begin with."

"What do you mean?"

"You were the straight arrow, bullet path to graduation, no detours, no binge drinking, no hookers or strip clubs…"

Freed suddenly choked on his soda.

"No wonder you're the junior manager now. I couldn't corrupt you during college, it wouldn't have been ethical, so maybe that's my duty now. Someone has to show you how to have a good time. Besides, you still owe me a beer!" he pointed out.

Freed laughed while shaking his head and grabbed a light coat. He looked around at the boxes piled around. He could sort through Laxus' stuff another time.

* * *

Freed had to squeeze just to get past the door to the pub. Music blasted, and Loke nodded in approval. Freed wondered if this was his definition of _not-crappy bands_. The music was so loud Freed's ears hurt, and he felt his heart start to fall in tempo to the thumping bass. He could not understand a single word of the lyrics being shouted into a microphone, and he was pretty certain he was the only person there who realized the guitarist's E-string was out of tune.

"Sure is crowded," Freed muttered, feeling out of place at a pub like this.

"Yeah! It's great, ain't it?" Loke shouted over the music. "Hot chicks here. Not like you care, but … _haaawt_ chicks!" He ogled a passing lady in fishnet stockings and a revealing blouse that left little for the imagination. Loke pushed a little further in. "There they are. Yo! Natsu, Gray!"

Freed edged his way over to some stools by the bar and saw two young men, one with pink hair and a scarf despite the summer heat and all these bodies crammed together, the other with black hair and a cold gaze to his gray-blue eyes. Freed instantly recognized the two. Ice Prince and Pinkie!

"Oh my God," he whispered, shaking slightly at the reminder of those days in the South Pole Club.

"Hey, Natsu, you squirmy salamander," Loke greeted, bumping fists with the pink-haired guy.

"Good to see ya, Lion. How's Karen?"

"Karen? Oh! Ugh, God no! She turned out to be a real psycho-bitch. She found out I was cheating on her with … with … crap, I can't remember her name anymore, I just remember that she was an Aries and was a really sweet little heavenly lamb. Too innocent for my tastes. Anyway, Karen found out and went all _yandere_ on her ass, nearly slaughtered her. I broke them apart. Haven't seen that little Aries girl since. Shortly before graduation, I met a really nice cheerleader, cute blonde named Lucy. I've been monogamous almost two whole weeks," he said proudly.

"Wait, Lucy?" asked Natsu. "The Heartfilia girl?"

Freed jolted over. "Did you say Heartfilia?"

"Yeah, you know her?" Loke asked both of them.

Natsu nodded. "We worked together on some projects in literature class. She's a brilliant writer."

"My family knows her family," Freed explained. "Justine Corporation and the Heartfilia Konzern are partners. I first met Lucy at her débutante ball, and she was over at my house just last December for a Christmas party. I don't really know her that well, though."

"You mean she's rich? Dang," Loke muttered. "She sure doesn't act rich. She's always worrying about paying her rent. Anyway! Guys, this is Freed. Freed, Natsu and Gray."

"Hiya!" Natsu grinned, enthusiastically shaking Freed's hand.

Gray just casually saluted. "Hey," he greeted laconically, yet his eyes lingered on Freed. "I know you, don't I?"

"U-umm," Freed stuttered. "I … th-think so." He gave an awkward shrug. "The club." That was all he said.

Gray froze with a shocked expression, then he shrank down in shame. "Oh … right."

"Y-yeah," Freed muttered awkwardly. He smiled and shrugged, showing that he would say nothing if the stripper said nothing.

Natsu tugged on the sleeve of the Ice Prince. "Gray?"

"He's … _friends_ with a former workmate … from _that place_. Like you," he explained cryptically.

_Friends_. He had been a client at one point. _That place_. The gay strippers club. _Like you._ Part of the audience who used to watch Gray strip out of his clothes and dance around a brass pole.

The younger one looked Freed over head to toe, and slowly it seemed like his memory was jogged. They had not known one another's real names: Pinkie and Greenie, regulars at the South Pole Club. Freed smiled in familiarity and gave a silent shrug, letting Natsu know he was just as surprised and cautious as these two. Few people wanted it to be publicly known that they frequented strip clubs.

Loke suddenly slapped the smaller boy on the back. "Natsu is an old friend of mine. He's the one who got me into that game."

"Oh, yeah!" Freed recalled. "Loke was playing Skyrim until three o'clock in the morning for weeks."

Natsu gave another massive grin. "Yeah, cool game. Lots of dragons!" He suddenly took the raven-haired man's hand. "This is my boyfriend, Gray."

"… Gray." Freed remembered, that was the name of the stripper Loke had been friends with. He politely said, "Nice to meet you."

Loke leaned over into Freed's ear. "Gray's not a bad-looking guy. Too bad he's taken. You and him might be…"

"No!" Freed snapped.

"Right, right. Sorry." He motioned to the bartender. "Whiskeys all around to start. Then we get some beer. We're here to celebrate many things. Graduating, new jobs, and Freed being a bachelor again!" he said, slapping Freed's back. He quickly leaned into Freed's ear. "I'll keep up your little lie about Laxus."

Freed wasn't sure if he should thank Loke or tell him to just shut up about it.

Gray looked over in a jolt. "What happened to Tho- … uh … to … umm…"

Freed hardly blamed him for stumbling over the name. He remembered how cautious the thunder god had been about letting others know his real name. That was no longer an issue though, and it had not been for months.

"To Laxus," Freed said, smiling in a way to let Gray know it was okay to say his name aloud.

"R-right," Gray muttered. "You and him were…" He cut off, not sure what to say without bringing up old emotions.

"Yeah," Freed whispered sadly.

"Sorry. I haven't even seen him in months."

"Right," Freed said softly. He remembered the day Laxus told him he quit his job at the strip club and canceled all of his clients. "Are you still working … there?"

"Nah, I quit that job. Too much drama." Gray stared ahead as if thinking about something particularly troublesome. Then he shrugged it off. "Natsu didn't like it after a while, so I quit."

Freed smiled at the two of them. "Yeah, same here. I mean, I liked going to the club. Just … it was awkward after a while. It became too difficult."

"Yeah, that's what Natsu said," Gray said softly while Natsu was busy chatting with Loke.

"So you quit dancing … for him?"

Gray laughed softly. "Yeah. Same thing as Thor … uh, Laxus." He looked awkward. "Sorry, I still think of him as _Thor_. We rarely used each others' real names. I don't think most of the workers there even knew Thor's real name. He was really cautious about his privacy."

"Yeah, I know. It took me weeks before he told me his surname. I used to think of him as Thor first and have to remind myself what his name _really_ was." Memories of those awkward first few weeks came back to him, and with it was a stabbing pain in his chest.

"So, you broke up, huh?"

"Something like that," Freed muttered.

"What do you mean?"

Freed saw that Gray was reading him as clear as day. There was no hiding emotions from him, and he used to be friends with Laxus, so Freed felt he deserved at least some of the truth. "He left on a trip to Europe. Some pretty serious business. He wasn't sure when he'll be back … or if. So he decided it was best to … to let me go."

Gray shook his head. "That's harsh, even for him. Nah," he said, refusing to believe it. "No way. I know about you and Laxus. He talked about you a lot. Hell, you were on his mind all the time, drove him crazy. Just before he quit, he and I talked. He was … _obsessed_, I'd say, which is really saying something considering how aloof that guy was. No, he wouldn't do that to you. He must have had some damn good reasons."

"Yeah," Freed admitted, and he shrugged while looking at his silver ring. "It's complicated."

Gray nodded, knowing this perfectly well. "_Complicated_ is how all of our relationships are, trust me. I supposed you can't talk about it, right?"

"No," Freed admitted.

"That guy had issues," Gray said softly. "Lots of secrets. He had a really dark past. We all did at that club, every single one of us, even Jellal. Laxus was the most secretive, though. If you met him, you'd think he was the most normal out of all of us, but he just hid from that darkness, just like the tattoos that hid his scars. You know about those, right?"

"Yeah," Freed pouted sadly. Their first night together, Laxus had told him how it was his own father who gave him those scars. Now he was somewhere in Greece, dealing with that barbarous man.

"Something bad happened to him," Gray sighed. "I never did drag it out of him. Probably don't want to know," he frowned, knowing he had issues in his past that he would have never told to Laxus either.

As Loke began to tell Natsu about moving boxes all day, Freed realized he and Gray were stuck talking together purely because the pub was too loud to hear anyone except the person at your elbow.

"So, you and Natsu, huh? You're official now?"

"Yeah." Gray smiled as he squeezed Natsu's hand, briefly pulling him out of Loke's conversation. "It's great, actually finding love after years of … well, something that wasn't healthy," he said, cautiously holding back from saying too much.

"Did it start in the club?"

"Actually, yeah. First time I saw him was in that club. I was annoyed as hell, dancing for him all the time, but somewhere along the way I fell for him. Funny how that worked out."

Freed glanced down to the lightning bolt on his ring again. "Yeah … funny," he smiled passively.

Their whiskeys finally arrived, and Loke raised his shot glass.

"Here's to guys!" he called out.

They all had to laugh.

"What sort of toast is that?" asked Natsu.

"Who the hell cares! To guys!"

"To guys!" they cheered back, and they tipped back their whiskeys.

Freed swallowed and grimaced at the taste. "Ugh! This stuff is crap."

"Too strong for ya?" Loke grinned.

"Too weak."

"What would you rather have?"

"Blue Label." Instantly, Freed realized what he had said. He stared forward as he remembered when Laxus had given him a drink of Blue Label through a kiss during a lap dance at the club. That had been the night they decided to have sex…

"Well, I could order it," Loke grumbled. "That's a damn expensive whiskey, though. Maybe…" He paused as he saw the pain in Freed's face. "Oh," he whispered, recalling a time when he found a bottle of the pricey Johnnie Walker Blue Label in the dorm. Freed had explained back then, it was Laxus' favorite drink. "Um, how about something else? We could get some Wild Turkey, Jack Daniel's, Knob Creek, Bushmills, Maker's Mark, maybe the Red Label, much cheaper."

Gray scoffed. "Red Label is crap good only for mixed drinks. Go for Glenfiddich."

Loke glared over. "I'm trying to make this _cheaper_. You know, like affordable to guys still paying off student loans."

Freed frowned as he realized these guys probably could not drink truly good alcohol purely because money was a serious issue. He spoke up brashly. "All drinks on me tonight. Top shelf only."

Gray's mouth dropped. "What?"

"I can afford it. I … um … I didn't need student loans."

Loke whispered over to him and Natsu, "His daddy's my CEO. He's filthy rich."

Freed nodded awkwardly. "Seriously, the tab is mine tonight." With determination, he flagged down the bartender. "Blue Label, and top shelf for them, anything they want."

"Whoa, seriously?" Natsu gawked.

Freed grinned at him. "Drink until you feel like you can breathe fire."

They each ordered something different, something they had always wanted to try but could never justify the price.

"I feel bad," Gray admitted. "I mean, I don't even know you."

"A friend of Laxus is a friend of mine," Freed declared.

"I'm not sure if I can count him as a _friend_, per say."

"He talked about you. That's close enough to being a _best friend_ for a guy like him," Freed chuckled. "So, Natsu, tell me what you do."

He watched in fascination as the bartender prepared a fiery Blue Blazer. "Oh! I'm training to be a firefighter."

Freed recalled Laxus saying that "Pinkie" preferred flaming drinks, and as they all watched the fiery spectacle, it was obvious that this guy who looked barely old enough to drink had a pyromaniac side to him. "Firefighter? At a university? Don't you normally go to a technical school for that?"

"Well, it's a bit more than that. I'm aiming to be a fire marshal someday, and they have to know all sorts of extra stuff. Fire sciences, prevention techniques, environmental science, HAZMAT, and … h-hey, do you know that guy?"

Freed glanced around, but the pub was packed with people. "Where?"

"There's a guy by the entrance. He's staring this way. He's … familiar," Natsu said, screwing up his brows as he tried to place the face.

Gray looked as well, and his eyes widened. "Oh my God," he whispered. "Freed, turn around."

"I don't see…" A person moved aside, and suddenly he had a clear view of the entrance. Electric blue eyes met his. Freed gasped and his heart jolted. "Laxus…"

Their eyes lingered for what seemed like minutes of silence, just the two of them wrapped in a world of their own, the music a buzz, the lights dimmed, the crowd a blur. Yet only a few seconds passed, and someone walked in front of them, blocking Freed's view and breaking that magical moment. When the person passed, Laxus was still there, not some mirage of wishful thinking.

Without taking his eyes off, Laxus pushed his way inside, shoving anyone who did not step aside. Freed trembled as emotions swelled inside him. Was this real? A dream? Was he already drunk and hallucinating?

Laxus stepped up in front of Freed and gazed down silently. Then his eyes shifted to Freed's hand. He reached forward and took the shot glass out of Freed's trembling fingers. "I'll have to punish you if you spill that." He drank half of it and smiled. "Blue Label. Bitch, you're copying me."

Freed still stared in disbelief. At last, he laughed softly. "That was a quick trip."

Laxus glared. Quick? It felt like ages! "Yeah. I got there and the bastard was gone. I stayed around since the P.I. was sure he could pick up the trail, but then authorities came. They were just as stumped as us. Trail was cold. By the time we heard anything at all, the bastard was in the Middle East. I'm not gonna go globe-trotting after his ass, so I came on home. Seems I wasted a plane ticket and a whole month, all for jack shit. I picked up some nice souvenirs for you, though. Can't make heads or tails of it. It's all Greek to me … literally." He stopped acting as if nothing had happened and gazed down in regret to Freed. "I'm so sorry I put you through that, and all for nothing."

The tears spilled over and streamed down Freed's cheeks. "I'm just glad you're home!" He flung himself into Laxus' arms, not caring if the whole pub saw them and made any stupid gay comments.

Laxus squeezed him back and buried his face down into the green hair to hide the happiness that brought tears to his eyes. "Yeah … me too," he whispered gruffly. He clutched Freed tight against him. "Me too."

Loke grinned at seeing them. "Hey, it's the big guy!"

"Shh!" Gray hushed.

"What?"

"Let them have a moment."

Loke saw Laxus kiss the top of Freed's head and heard the soft sobs of joy from his old roommate. He smiled, happy to see Freed got his boyfriend back. He looked down at his drink, then over to Gray and Natsu.

"To guys!" he cheered.

Gray lifted his glass and saluted. "I'll drink to that," he said as he tipped his glass back.

**Next Chapter: Master's Return**

* * *

_A/N: In case you're curious, a single bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label sells for $180-$200 in the USA. What Gray suggests, Glenfiddich, can cost $150 to over $500 a bottle! Before I got married, a friend toasted my upcoming marriage by buying me a shot of Blue Label. The bartender set the glasses down in front of us and said "God bless you" like it was the last drink we'd ever have. Best damn scotch I ever tasted! Then again, I'm used to the cheap stuff, Red Label which is only $20, Fireball if I'm lucky, or the really cheap local Hood River Monarch whiskey, a bottom-shelf $6 bottle that's good for mixed drinks and not much else.  
_


	24. Master's Return

Chapter 24

**Master's Return**

Freed barely remembered slipping away from the crowd. He had no idea how Laxus knew there was a broom closet in the back, precisely where it was located, and how to slip past security to get back here in the first place; he figured he probably did not want to know. Laxus once said he had visited every bar in town at least once. Perhaps he had learned the layouts of each place … for clients in the past.

Freed did not even bother thinking about that now. He was shoved against a metal shelving unit, having the sanity kissed right out of him. The cold lines of steel shelves pressed against his spine, the pungency of cleansers burned his lungs, and hands that were still cold from being outside were sliding up under his shirt, chilling his torso as they groped at him. None of these discomforts bothered him. Not when Laxus was kissing him so fiercely.

Those massive hands suddenly reached down, grabbed his ass, and hoisted him up. Freed grabbed around Laxus' neck, his thin legs wrapped around the muscular waist, and he was effortlessly lifted. He felt Laxus thrust up against him, hard and in need of friction. They clung to one another in a desperate passion they had never yet experienced, not like this. It was a wild craving, a need that outweighed everything, even the nagging voice in the back of Freed's mind that warned him that they could get arrested for having sex in public.

None of that mattered. He needed Laxus! He needed to be filled up and claimed. He wanted to be ravaged so hard, he would feel the lingering ache for days. He wanted to be taken, right here, right now!

Laxus snarled between violent kisses, "I am _so_ ready to fuck you."

"Yes," Freed shivered. He missed this! He missed the tempestuous passion and thundering growls.

"Do you want it?" Laxus chuckled. "Public sex? It's illegal, y'know."

"I don't care," he moaned. Freed wiggled his body against the taut muscles, needing the ache rubbed out. "Please!" He was so desperate, he was willing to beg, to obey, to do whatever was ordered of him.

"Idiot." Laxus began to pull Freed off of him.

"N-no!" he protested, leeching himself even tighter to that body.

"Get off of me. That's an order."

With a reluctant whine, Freed placed his feet back down onto the ground. He looked up with disappointment.

"Are you stupid?" Laxus scolded softly. "As if I'd do something that could actually end up getting you arrested. You've got a reputation to uphold, and there's no way I'm gonna screw that up."

"I don't care," Freed whined needfully.

Laxus put a finger on his nose, holding him back playfully. "I do. I just fuckin' _left you_ because I didn't want to drag your family's name into the mud. I ain't screwing up now that I'm back. You can wait until we get home."

Freed moaned in disappointment and dropped his head down onto Laxus' chest. "But I'm … _really_ turned on."

"Of course you are."

Freed chuckled. It was the same arrogant tone Laxus always used. How he missed it!

Laxus leaned into his ear. "So am I. Feel this." He took Freed's hand and placed it against his crotch. Immediately, Freed grabbed that thick arousal and began to stroke it. "Whoa, easy there!" He yanked the hand off. "Who gave you permission to do that?"

"Please," he begged. He missed the feel of that cock. He wanted to touch it, taste it, let it take him and fill him. His mouth, his ass, he didn't care where, he just wanted that large member to pierce him and join Laxus to him, their bodies becoming one.

Laxus shook his head in awe. "Damn, I really did miss you."

Hearing that made Freed smile, although his groin really was aching with need. "Do you wanna go home? The new place is set up. I just moved your boxes in from the storage shed today, so … so it's _really_ our place now."

"Our home, huh?" Laxus said with a light smile. "That sounds nice." Nice? It was a dream come true! "Don't you think you should stay with your friends, though? I know someone like _you_ didn't drag _them_ out here. They're going out of their way to cheer you up."

"I'm happy now," he said, hugging Laxus and rubbing his cheek against his chest.

Laxus felt like melting at how adorable Freed could be, like a little cat ready to purr. "Yeah, but considering that's top-shelf shit you're drinking, I would bet money that you're buying their drinks tonight. If you offer to take the tab, you should at least finish the first round."

"I…" Freed felt stumped. Laxus had a point. It was rude to leave after he had offered to buy drinks all night for the guys, but he really wanted to get home and reunite with Laxus. "I want you."

Laxus looked pleased, but he shook his head. "That'd be shitty of me. We have time, and if I start up too soon, you'll never last."

"Last?" he asked in confusion.

Those blue eyes gleamed in the broom closet's low light. "I told you, the next time I see you, I'm gonna make love to you until sunrise."

"But … but that was when we thought you'd be gone for—"

"I've been gone long enough," Laxus said over his words. His hands ran up and down Freed's body. "Long enough to want you all night."

Freed trembled under the gentle touches. Laxus looked like he was starving, and when he kissed Freed, he bit on his lip, as if ready to devour him here.

"You want me, right?" Laxus asked as he slowly kissed along Freed's jawbone and up toward his ear.

"O-of course!" he stuttered out.

Laxus suddenly grabbed his chin and lifted it. "Tell me!" he demanded.

Freed shivered from the aggressive dominance that he had missed so much. "I want you," he moaned. "Please!"

"Then you wait," he teased, pulling back and leaving Freed desperate for more. Laxus smirked at how easily he could mess up this son of a rich man. "You brought _all_ of my stuff, right?"

"Everything I didn't donate. That was just clothes and some furniture."

"You didn't toss any of my … _personal_ supplies, right?"

Freed blushed, knowing what he meant. "N-no. I packed all of that." It had been the first time he had seen _all_ of Laxus' supplies, and he had diligently kept every item, from sex toys to old porn mags.

"Good," Laxus chuckled deviously. "There are a few things I wanna try on you. I said I would make love to you until sunrise." He grabbed Freed's cheeks hard with one hand until his jaw was forced open and he moaned in pain. "I didn't say it would be gentle."

Freed could not shut his mouth to hold back the groan, and the sound of it shamed him. "Y-you mean…"

Laxus leaned in close to his face. "You are going to _hurt_," he promised. "I couldn't take it out on that bastard father of mine, so you'll have to do. Just warning you," he whispered in a threat that made Freed's skin crawl and his heart race. "It might hurt worse than you're used to. Tell me when it's too much. I'm gonna push you to your limits. To the _very edge_ of what you can withstand! I wanna see you unable to walk, unable to speak from all the screaming, my hand print on your lily-white ass, my teeth engraved into your skin, my marks all over you until not an inch of your body forgets who your master is. Then, I'm gonna pound that ass of yours so hard, so many times, fill you with so much of my cum, you won't be able to take a shit for a week without feeling the burn."

"Laxus," he whined, getting erect all over again from the sweet promises of sadistic pain.

"I said I'd make love to you until sunrise, but I _never_ said you'd only come once." Laxus pressed himself up against Freed again, and the green-haired man felt the stiffness in those leather pants. "I wanna see how many times it takes to completely drain you. What's your record, Freed? How many times in one day have you made yourself come?"

Freed moaned at the humiliating question and looked away with a blush.

Laxus suddenly pulled his hair and growled. "Answer me, you little slave. What's your record for coming?"

Freed moaned at the hair-pulling. "S-seven! But that was a whole day."

"You mean you once spent a whole day jacking off?"

"Not the _whole_ day," he mumbled in shame. "I just mean, that was from morning wood until evening finale. In one sitting … um … three? Three times, I guess?"

"Three?" Laxus hummed. "Not enough. We'll aim for seven. I wanna make you come seven fucking times. I wanna keep you going until you're shooting dry. And when you can't come anymore, I'm gonna keep going until you pass out. Don't even think about begging me to stop. I won't! I won't until sunrise. I'll fill your ass with every toy I have, and I'll make you ride me in every position in the book. Even if you pass out, I'll fuck you unconscious."

Freed whined and reached down as his cock pulsed to those dirty, sensual words.

"Hey," Laxus warned.

"No, I … I won't come in my pants," he said, fighting the need. "You taught me control."

"Damn right I did! And I wanna see you _lose_ control."

Freed whimpered.

His hand drifted down as his mouth nibbled Freed's neck. "I wanna see you _begging_ me! I wanna hear you moan, see you writhing all over the bed." He nipped Freed's earlobe. "I want to make you _scream_." He suddenly squeezed Freed's erection painfully tight.

"Laxus!" he cried out, giving a small push. If he kept that up, he might really come in his clothes. "Come on. I'm trying _not_ to embarrass myself."

"Maybe I wanna see that, too," Laxus smirked. "Do you want to know what I fantasized about out there in Greece? Our first night, that lap dance. I was staring at how sexy you looked under me, but I wasn't paying attention to _you_, to your needs. I was too enthralled," he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind Freed's ear. "You looked incredible that night. I was lost, staring at your eyes, watching your body twist with need. I wasn't paying attention. Still, I felt when you came in your pants. I felt it twitch and throb. I could _smell_ it shoot out."

Freed gasped as he remembered that night and the shame of it.

"So much humiliation!" Laxus hummed hungrily. "Wanna know a secret?" He leaned into Freed's ear. "I almost came right there along with you."

Freed looked up in amazement. "W-what?"

"Yeah," Laxus shrugged, wondering why he was confessing this now. "I wasn't about to admit it before, but … my God, you were _hot_," he sneered. "So that's what I kept imagining: that face you had in that moment. Fuck!" he exclaimed, remembering the total and utter humiliation he had witnessed, made more incredible because it had not been something consensual. It had been accidental, not something a client _wanted_. It was honest humiliation, forced shaming, and that had made it incredible. "I'm glad you didn't totally hate me for that."

"I admit, I was mad," Freed confessed. "It was embarrassing!"

"Oh, I bet!" Laxus' voice dropped to a whisper. "I would _love_ to see you do that again. I won't have sex with you in public, but … something like that, coming in your pants in public, in front of a crowd. Damn, I wanna see that."

Freed felt a cold sweat as the predatory gleam focused on him. "N-no! Not here!"

Laxus just smiled.

"No!" Freed shivered. "My friends are here."

"Exactly. It's perfect. Loud music so whimpers won't be overheard, crowded enough so no one will be looking directly at us yet you'll realize just how many people are witnessing you jizz your pants, and people you know sitting right in front of you."

"N-no," he whined. "I don't have a change of clothes. I … I couldn't go around a crowd like that with cum in my pants. That's just … it's … not right. It could get on someone."

That was an honest possibility, and Laxus realized it would be bad if some lady accidentally brushed against Freed in the crowd and got semen on her. Not only was it unsanitary, it was _Freed's_ cum. The idea of even a single drop ending up on someone else pissed off Laxus. He didn't want anyone to have Freed's cum on them, no one else, only him. He was the only person who could feel that milky fluid on his skin. He wanted to publicly claim dominance over Freed, but he didn't want to share a single drop.

"Then into a condom you go."

Freed thought his argument would end this, but he saw the way Laxus looked at him. He gasped in terror. "You're serious."

"Dead serious," Laxus said coldly.

Freed gulped and began to pant. Oh damn, it sounded amazing, but … wrong. So wrong! And that made it incredible.

"It'll count as your first time coming tonight. First of seven. The apartment can wait. I wanna have fun now." He caged Freed in against the broom closet shelf and hissed into his ear. "I wanna see this. I wanna make you do things you'll never forget, things that will make you feel downright _dirty_ tomorrow morning. I want everyone here to see how my slave looks after he's been pleasured by _me_. You'll show them," he said with cruel amusement. "You're gonna show them all _that face_. The face I jacked off to in Greece. I wanna see it again." He pulled back, reached into a back pocket, and pulled something out. "Here, take this." He grabbed Freed's hand and thrust it into his palm.

Freed looked down and saw the small square wrapper with a distinct circle bulging around. "Wh-what?" he cried out in shock. "Where'd you get that?"

"I brought it with me," Laxus shrugged. "I knew I wanted you, and I wasn't sure if I could wait."

Freed quickly hid the condom into his pocket.

"Go into the restroom. Put it on," Laxus ordered. "And to make sure it doesn't get filled before I finish my drink…" He reached into the other pocket and pulled out a cock ring.

"Wait a minute!" Freed yelled. "There is no way you got my cock ring from my apartment." He felt a sudden bolt of jealousy. "Whose is it?"

Why would Laxus have a cock ring in his pocket? Had he bought it in Greece? Had he _used it_ in Greece? On someone else? The idea both angered him and made him want to cry. What if Laxus had slipped back into his old habits? What if he needed money and took some clients for quick funds? He always insisted that they meant nothing, he had no emotional attachment to those people, but now…

Things were different. Now, they were both wearing those silver rings. Laxus did not need clients for money, not when he had Freed. Of course, Laxus had promised not to call Freed while on that trip. Still, Freed didn't want to share him, not with a client, not with anyone. He had never been greedy in his life, taught that a man of his station was meant to share the wealth, donate to charity, and give away freely. However, he wanted to be greedy with Laxus. He wanted to be the only man for him. If Laxus absolutely _needed_ a person with a higher pain tolerance to get some sadistic cravings out of his system, then Freed wanted to be the one who allowed it, to watch, to see everything Laxus did and know that he could stop all of it if he didn't like it.

The idea that Laxus might have taken someone while in Greece made Freed's heart turn dark.

"Idiot," Laxus scoffed. "I bought it just now, on my way here." He had a smug smile.

Freed's eyes narrowed. Bought it? Tonight? That was a relief! However, that meant… "You've been planning this all along," he accused.

"Maybe," Laxus admitted. "I figured, if you were out in public, why not? Then I tracked the GPS on your phone to the pub. Perfect! In front of your friends, in front of that roommate you once called _drop-dead handsome_—"

"I didn't—"

"You did," he shouted, "and I've been pissed at Loke ever since. I wanna show him. I wanna humiliate you right in front of him, and … seriously, how the hell do you know Gray?" he exclaimed. "Have you been watching him strip? I said no strip clubs, bitch!"

"No!" Freed cried out. "He's out. He quit the South Pole Club. Loke knows Pinkie—I mean, Natsu—and Gray is dating Natsu. That's all. Honestly, this is the first time I've met either one of them outside of the club. And I haven't been back to there, I swear. Well, except to go talk to Bob, but that was after hours. I was good!" he swore.

"I'm still punishing you."

"Why?" he yelled.

"Do I need a reason? Because you're in a pub with hot ladies all over the place who could put their hands on your ass. Because you're with three young men, and two of them are gay and thus potentially could be interested in you. Because you smell sexy and I don't want others to smell you."

"Smell?" he asked. He had not put on any cologne. If anything, he should smell a bit sweaty from moving boxes. How was that sexy?

"Because I missed you until it hurt but you just said '_That was a quick trip_,' and that pissed me off. Because I _wanna_ punish you, and I don't need a goddamn excuse, but I have _so many_ right now, I could spend the night listing them." He slammed Freed into the concrete wall and towered over him. "I want to punish you, and that starts now. You'll put on that condom, wear that cock ring, and your gonna sit in this pub until I make you come in your goddamn clothes. You're not gonna run off, or hide your face, and I won't distract your friends from watching. I'll _make_ them watch you. You'll show them, and you're gonna shoot that cum out into my condom knowing you're doing it right in front of everyone."

"N-no," he shivered. With tears, Freed hugged himself and shrank away. "No. I … no." He sobbed softly, shaking his head and looking overwhelmed by it all.

Laxus stepped back, wondering if he was being too harsh. He had spent over a month plotting some of the worst torture he knew, only to have those plans put on hold. He did not want to take out his frustration and disappointment on Freed. He only wanted to pleasure him, to hear his arousing gasps and whimpers. He pouted at the shaking in those slender limbs and the tears dripping down his flushed cheeks.

"Is it really too much?"

Freed gulped hard and shook his lowered head.

"If it truly is, I won't—"

"No!" he yelled, looking up and seeing the gentle concern in those eyes.

For all his foul language and harsh treatment, Laxus cared deeply for him. He might make threats, but Freed knew that, when it came down to the truth, he was in charge here. He called the shots. He always had. If he truly did not want this, Laxus would stop. He was sadistic but not evil. He was tender and worried about Freed all the time, even when whispering sweet promises of pain and humiliation.

"I … I…" The words caught in Freed's throat, but the blush showed what his brain could not articulate.

"Ooooh?" Laxus smiled in amusement. "Do you really _want_ it after all? Does a pervert like you _want_ to come in front of his friends?"

Freed felt tiny and shameful because the truth was, he _did_ want it. "I don't!" he insisted. "It's green, and I don't!"

"Green?" Green! _Green_ light to go, but Freed would act like it was against his will. He chuckled at the devious little vixen. "You horny bastard," he said softly. His adorable slave was playing hard-to-get. Fine, he would get forceful, if that was what Freed really wanted. He raised his voice, "You'll put that condom and cock ring on."

"No!" Freed said in stubbornness.

Laxus grabbed his hair again and yanked it hard. Instead of pain, the shout from Freed trembled with ecstasy. "You listen to me, you little bitch. You're _my_ slave. You obey _me_. Master was away, but now Master is home, and _you will obey_."

"No!" he yelled back, summoning up all the pride and hubris he had been born into. "I am a working adult and junior manager at the Justine Corporation. I don't have to—"

Laxus suddenly slammed his foot into the metal shelf, making a boom so loud, Freed jumped in fear. Someone _had_ to have heard that! Keeping his leg popped up, Laxus grabbed Freed by the hips, yanked him with bruising force, and threw him over his raised knee. Freed was thrown so hard, his hair fell into his face. His head was upside down and looking backward at his own ankles

"What the…?"

Freed's words were cut off by three cracks as Laxus' open palm spanked his ass. Those turquoise eyes opened huge. Freed honestly had not expected to be spanked right here, and he could not even cry out, it was so fast and so shocking. Then those sweaty fingers grabbed his hair and yanked him upright. Laxus leaned into his face and glared coldly while Freed gazed with massive eyes.

"You … will … obey … me … bitch!"

Freed's racing heart made him breathless. If this was just the beginning, tonight was going to be the best night of his life.

"Do you need to be convinced more?"

"No," he whispered in awe. He had almost forgotten how enthralling Laxus could be when he stopped trying to be gentle and went fully sadistic and dominant.

"Are you going to obey?"

"Yes," he said so softly, it was barely a hiss. He wanted this blond god to dominate him more!

"Put that damn cock ring on, shove your dick into the condom, and then come directly to me. I'll get a booth for our group. That way my hand can be under the table as I touch you. I want to stroke your cock in front of _everybody_. If it wasn't illegal, I would throw you over a table and pound that ass of yours in front of the whole group, for everyone to see. Hell, I'd ask Gray to give me a hand and have him suck your dick while I bury myself deep inside you."

Freed's eyes widened and his cheeks went crimson as he imagined both former strip dancers working on him.

"Do you like that idea?"

"I … I don't … I'm not sure," he said uncomfortably.

"Ever been in a threesome?"

Freed looked hurt by the question. "I've only been with you."

Laxus smiled and stroked his head tenderly. "Good answer. Now, go on. You should be _thankful_ I'm letting you use a condom."

Freed nodded, but he looked up with sadness still lingering. "Do you really want Gray to do that?"

"Fuck no!" Laxus glared. "I'm too jealous and greedy. I don't like the idea of guys even shaking your hand, let alone touching you _there_."

Freed sighed with relief. He had almost been afraid that this was a fantasy of Laxus', if maybe he wasn't enough now, maybe Laxus wanted two lovers to order around.

"Freed." Laxus picked up his thin hand, kissed the inside of his palm, and then held his knuckles to let the silver promise ring gleam in the dim closet light. "What does the inside of this ring say?"

Freed's cheeks blushed. "_Only you, Greenie._"

"And what does my ring say?"

Freed gazed up lovingly into those electric eyes. "_Only you, Thor._"

He nodded and kissed Freed's knuckles. "Only you, and don't you fucking forget it!"

All of his fears vanished in that moment. His worries about Laxus' loyalty while in Greece, his guilt at being so greedy, his desire to covet this man, were all justified, because Laxus felt the exact same way. He didn't want men to touch Freed. He was angry just because Freed was hanging out with other gay men. He had bought these silver promise rings as a way to lay claim on Freed, even if it was greedy doing so. He had been just as worried, just as jealous, and just as happy to be together again.

Laxus leaned over and planted a soft kiss onto Freed's forehead. His eyes said it all. They were both greedy bastards who wanted it all, but there was nothing wrong with that, not when they were both rich enough in love to keep giving freely.

"Now go," Laxus told him with a firm tone but a tender smile.

"Yes, Master," he said, and he turned around to the closet door. He began to twist the handle.

Hearing Freed call him Master once again overwhelmed Laxus. Although the door was cracked open, he slammed a hand against it, shutting it with a bang. He pinned Freed against the door, grabbed his shirt collar, yanked it aside, and kissed him hard on the top of his shoulder. Freed cried out in surprise. He stuttered protests, but Laxus ignored them.

He suddenly bit into that pale skin and latched on hard with his lips. He needed to mark Freed as his, _now!_ He did not dare let him walk around this crowd looking as sexy as he was and not be marked as his. He sucked as hard as he could, as if he could siphon the very soul out of him. Then he looked down. Sure enough, it was bruised with blood speckling just under the surface of the skin. Laxus liked seeing that. He kissed it gently as an apology for hurting him, but his skin smelled so good, sweaty and musky and not scented with soaps or body sprays. It smelled of sweat, sex, and lust.

He licked the skin, tasting it, then kissed, kissed, _kissed!_ So delicious! _More!_

"L-Laxus!" he cried out. "Stop, really." Freed didn't know whether to expect pain or pleasure, but he knew that if Laxus continued, both of them would be too weak to stop themselves.

Laxus pulled away, satisfied that Freed at least had a decent mark there. He straightened up the shirt and made sure the hickey did not show.

God, Laxus wanted him! His desire was so potent, it was probably unhealthy, but he blamed it on the long separation. He wanted everything about Freed, wanted to make him feel everything, from the sweetest tenderness to the most violent passion. He wanted to claim everything, protect everything, to enslave him and worship him and hoard him and never let him be touched by another person. He was an angel, and no mortal should dare touch such perfection. Only a god could.

Only the thunder god could claim this green angel!

His fist tensed and shook at how much he had to hold back the desire to rip Freed's clothes off and take him, right here, right now, as roughly and thoroughly as possible. That lust clashed with the desire to just hold him, cling to him, caress every part of his body, cover him in gentle kisses, beg him for forgiveness, and crawl around on all fours if it could make up for making Freed cry. He wanted to cherish him, and he wanted to use him up as roughly as possible. He wanted to protect him from harm, and he wanted to make him tremble with erotic pain.

The emotions swirled, clashed, battled each other, and left Laxus frustrated with a storm of paradoxical passions.

"Mine," he growled, and that was all. He opened the closet door and stomped out, knowing that if he stayed there any longer, he really would do something illegal.

Freed stood in the dim room, panting and in shock from suddenly having Laxus gone. He looked down at the cock ring still in his hand and pulled out the condom that accompanied it.

"I guess it starts now," he said to himself. He firmed his shoulders. He had been given orders by his master. "I'll obey," he declared to himself.

No matter how shaming it was, he would obey his master, please his master, and throw all of his trust onto his master to protect him from truly doing too much. He would show Laxus how much he loved and trusted him, not just in private, but out here, in the open, in front of everyone. He would _publicly_ prove his loyalty and obedience.

Finally, he walked out of the broom closet, determined to make it to the bathroom and obey Laxus' wishes.

**Next Chapter: ****In Front of Everyone**

* * *

_A/N: I made recordings of the next few chapters detailing what will probably be the best night of Freed's life!_  
_Chapter 24 audio: chirb =dot= it/Jemm7t _


	25. In Front of Everyone

Chapter 25

**In Front of Everyone**

Laxus stepped out from the back and glanced around. He saw Loke, Gray, and Natsu still sitting by the bar. The crowd had thinned only a little since the band was done and some new band was setting up.

Gray noticed Laxus first and gave a brief wave. Laxus headed straight over to them.

"'Sup Gray. Been a while."

"Sure has," his former coworker smiled, bumping a fist against Laxus' massive knuckles. "You guys are staying?"

Laxus gave a casual shrug. "Yeah, I decided I should join you guys for at least one or two rounds."

"Oh," Gray said in confusion. "I figured you two would want to … head off." His arched eyebrow showed precisely what he meant.

Laxus smirked at the lewd assumption. "We've got time. Loke," he nodded in greeting. "I hope Freed wasn't too annoying for you."

The ginger pushed his glasses up his nose and glared slightly. "He was a mess after you left. You have some balls coming back just as he's sorting out his life."

Laxus' mouth opened in shock at the attack, but he had no clue what to say. He probably should have realized that there would be people who felt mad at him for breaking Freed's heart.

"Or … that's what I _should_ say," Loke chuckled, playfully amused to have stumped a man like Laxus. "Freed kept real hush about it, but I could tell that you must've left for some damn good reasons. So long as whatever shit you're in doesn't get him arrested or hurt, I'm just glad to see him smiling again."

Laxus sighed in relief. He was afraid the awkwardness might have ruined everything he had planned. "Well, thanks. Who's the pinkie here?"

Gray wrapped an arm around him, and the smaller boy wearing a scarf instantly snuggled into him. "This is Natsu."

"You worked with Gray, right?" the youngest of them all asked suspiciously. "You're not here to drag him back, are you? I won't let you!" he shouted protectively.

Gray pressed a hand onto Natsu's chest. "I told you, no one can make me go back anymore."

"Don't worry," Laxus said in understanding. "I quit that hellhole back in December." He wondered if Freed ever felt this strongly against Laxus returning to the South Pole Club. Not like he had _any_ desire to return … ever! Natsu looked like the possessive type, considering the way he clutched at Gray and glared at Laxus as if to say _Back off, he's mine!_

"Workmates?" Loke asked. "You know Gray?"

"Yeah, we worked together for the past … what, two years? Three?"

Gray rolled his eyes. "Felt like forever."

"What sort of job did you—?"

"Hey," Laxus blurted out over Loke's question. "Let's get a booth. Five is enough to request one in this joint. Kinana!"

A waitress came up to him. "Well, well! Look who showed his face after half a year."

"A hell of a year. I'll have to tell you about it later. Get us a booth."

"You're still bossy," she scoffed.

"But I ain't _your_ boss no more."

"That's a shame, too. The boss now," she admitted quietly, "is a middle-aged lecher. I don't dare wear the blouses I used to because he stares at my breasts all the time."

Another waitress slipped up beside her. "Talking about my dad?"

Kinana yelped. "Cana!"

"He's a jerk, but he's harmless." She turned to the four men, and her dark eyes lingered on the blond. "You, I remember. Laxus, right?" She eyed him up and down. "I thought that was your sexy ass that walked through the door."

"Cana," he said coldly. "Still trying to drink your daddy out of business?"

"Fuck him. What can I get you? The usual?"

"I don't aim on getting drunk tonight. Only a pint of Newcastle and a booth."

"Gotta have five in a party for…"

"My boyfriend is powdering his pecker. Get me a fucking booth," he glared.

"Damn," she frowned. "So that's how you swing. I always wondered why you never took up my offers."

"It sure wasn't because I have too much respect for you," he teased lightly.

She slammed a finger into his chest and leaned in at him. "You ain't my boss anymore, Laxus. So I can say _fuck you_ and spit in your drink if I want."

"Do that, and I'll tell your daddy about that time with Bacchus."

Her eyes narrowed, and she swept away in a fury.

"You used to work here?" Gray asked.

"My grandfather used to run the Fairy Tail Pub," Laxus told him. "I was supposed to take over for him, but … things happened. Gildarts runs it now." They saw a wave from Cana, and their group shifted through the crowd to a booth where they settled in.

"So, what do you do now?" Gray asked curiously.

Laxus chuckled at how his life had changed, once the son of a man who ran a pub as a family business, then odd jobs, drifting from place to place, then as a strip dancer and professional Dom, and now … "I'm an electrician."

Gray stared, waiting for some sort of punchline, and when none came he exclaimed, "Get out!"

"And part time bouncer," Laxus confessed, "and part time … other stuff."

Loke took his eyes off of Cana's round rump long enough to look over. "Other stuff? That sounds shady."

Oh, if only he knew! "You could say I found my calling … _if_ I still have that job," he muttered.

"Because you took off, huh?" Gray asked.

"Unavoidable," Laxus said curtly. Cana set his beer down and he muttered thanks. "I'm just glad my business in Europe didn't last as long as I was afraid it would."

"What was that about anyway?" asked Gray. "Or can you not say?"

"Family issues. That's as much as I can tell you." As if he could confess that he had left with every intention of murdering his nefarious father!

Natsu looked around. "Where'd Freed go? It sure is taking him a while just to use the bathroom. Maybe he's sick."

"He's not sick," Laxus said sharply.

Gray's eyes gleamed, and he smirked silently. Laxus saw the look.

"You got something to say, Gray?"

"Nah," he said passively.

Just then, the new band started up, and Loke and Natsu's attention shifted as the singer with piercings all over his face introduced themselves. Iron Dragon Slayer? It sounded like a really bizarre crossover between Iron Maiden, Imagine Dragons, and Slayer. Gray took that opportunity to lean across the table to Laxus.

"I just have an idea of what you and that Greenie kid are planning to do."

Laxus stared with a completely passive poker face. "I don't know what you're—"

"I've made Natsu do it," he interrupted.

Laxus arched an eyebrow. "Oh really?" he said in amusement.

"Crowded bar, loud music. Perfect setting. I was never into hardcore shit like you, not until I met him," Gray said softly, glancing at the boy with bright pink hair. "You're _really_ sadistic, making Freed do it in front of us."

"He wants it."

"They always do," Gray mused.

"Do you want to as well, with Natsu?"

"Nah. We learned the hard way, he's … pretty damn vocal. Let's just say there are a few bars in town that we can't enter anymore."

Natsu's attention was pulled back. He leaned up into Gray's ear. "You're not telling him about … _that_, are you?"

"Of course not," Gray assured him. "Get us some beer nuts and pretzels, okay?"

"Sure," he grinned, and Natsu slid out of the booth.

Loke was chatting with Cana and trying to get her phone number—so much for being monogamous for two weeks—so Laxus and Gray could talk more.

"How do you silence Freed?" Gray asked in professional curiosity.

"I don't even own a ball gag, to be honest. He's not loud to begin with … unless he wants to be." He remembered how Freed had moaned with earnestness in the dorm their first time, _wanting_ his neighbors to hear how good gay sex could be as a way to get back at them for teasing him about his homosexuality.

"But I mean, in public."

"We've never done this."

Gray looked stunned. "Tonight's a first for you two?" he asked, and Laxus nodded. "Now I feel like I have to do something to Natsu just to celebrate. Tell ya what? Don't pay attention to my boyfriend and I won't pay attention to yours."

Laxus' devious smile widened. "I _want_ you to pay attention."

Gray laughed softly and shook his head. "Damn, I don't think I could do what you do." He looked up just as both Natsu and Freed were heading back at about the same time. The two submissive boyfriends met and chatted together. "Look at them. Pinkie and Greenie. Remember when we used to complain about them?"

"I never complained."

"I guess not. You complained about the club lifestyle, but never about Greenie. Look at him! Blushing already. What do you have him wearing?"

"Rubber and a ring," Laxus said laconically.

"That's it?"

"Hey, I just got off a plane from Greece. Like I had time to plan this!"

"Well, good luck with him."

"Yeah…" Laxus pouted. "I really hope this isn't a bad idea, me just getting back and all."

"If he agreed to this, you're definitely good. He probably wants it way more than you do, so don't disappoint him." Just then, Natsu arrived with bowls of sweet-glazed peanuts and mini pretzels, happy to show Gray that he fetched them. Gray gave a pat on the pink head that looked a little too much like pet-play to go unnoticed by Laxus. He wondered what Natsu was hiding under that white scarf. A collar?

Slower, Freed followed, twisting his hands in front of him. Laxus gazed hard at him with a pleased smile. Those nervous hands were positioned right there to hide the erection growing from the tightness of the cock ring, yet Laxus still noticed the tenting in the trousers.

"I'm … back," Freed said timidly.

Laxus stood and motioned for Freed to slide into the inside of the booth, that way he was closer to the wall and less visible to the crowd. Freed moved his long hair aside and slid over. Across the way from him was Natsu, who had just crawled under the table to pop up beside Gray, looking happy to return to his drink and snacks. (_And to his master_, thought Laxus.) Gray was in the middle, and Freed wondered why he was smiling at him that way, as if he knew a secret. Loke was on the end so he could chat with passing waitresses.

Laxus sat back down, so large that he took up the rest of their side of the booth. He placed a hand on Freed's knee, and the smaller man yelped in surprise.

"Are you all right?" Laxus asked softly.

"Y-yeah," Freed breathlessly whispered back. He leaned up into Laxus' ear to whisper for the music of the new singer. "It's … hard already."

"Of course it is," Laxus said in amusement. He knew how Freed was. The man could get erect with just kissing. Knowing what they were about to do, it was a miracle the guy had not shot out his cum before making it to the booth. "If it's really too much, say … falafel."

That made Freed laugh to himself. A new safeword? Then again, Gray might speak French and question his normal safeword of _Écriture_, and saying Red in public was out of the question. "Did you pick that up in Greece?"

"About the only thing I did there was walk around ass-old buildings and eat food. Now drink, and try not to moan."

Freed tugged Laxus' sleeve urgently, and he leaned over to listen. "Order me," he whispered. Freed just needed to hear it, to feel like he had to obey. Not a request to _try_, but a command.

Laxus chuckled to himself. Across the way, he saw Gray already sharing a smile with him. The raven-haired man probably guessed they were still setting up their scene, and that was why he was letting Natsu pig out on pretzels and not bothering Loke and his failing attempts at flirting with Cana. He was keeping quiet so these two could set themselves up.

Laxus leaned into Freed's ear and hissed in the most domineering voice he could muster and still keep quiet, "Don't you fucking moan, bitch."

Freed felt that order shiver through him. Yes! He had to obey now. He could not make a sound. Master gave an order. He had to sit there and be a good slave.

Laxus slid his hand up a little higher, coming to rest tucked between Freed's thighs. That position, the anticipation of being touched without the actual pleasure, that _denial_ of touching, made Freed shiver. Only by sheer force of will, wanting to follow Laxus' order, did he hold still and not thrust toward that hand.

"So Loke," Laxus called over. It was time for this show to begin. "Freed tells me you helped him move in my boxes. I owe you a beer."

"He owes me, not you," Loke said.

"That was my crap. So long as you didn't break anything—" Dramatically, for all three to see, he patted Freed on the leg. "—I have to thank you for helping Freed. Someone has to watch out for this mouse when I'm gone."

Freed gulped hard. That blatant touch made everyone else briefly look down … down to the hand now resting on his upper thigh, fingers tucked between his legs, with Laxus' pinkie finger stroking up, just a very soft and discreet touch to the sensitive manhood. Although it was hidden by the table, when Freed glanced down to Laxus' hand, he also saw the engorged arousal pressing needfully against his trousers.

Someone could see _that_.

Only the table blocked it from view, but Freed realized, someone walking by, a waitress or just some customer, could glance over and see what the table hid from the three young men across from them. He was erect in public, and not like the strip club where hard-ons were common. This was just some local pub filled with average people. He would be publicly humiliated if these normal people saw him with an erection. The fear of that disgrace made all of his nerves come alive, suddenly hyper-aware of every noise and light and smell, as well as those clandestine touches from Laxus' pinkie. One finger was making him shiver.

Laxus lifted his other hand and flagged a waitress. "Cana!" he shouted. "Get me and my friend here another pint on my tab, and get my boyfriend a Sapphire martini. His own tab. He can afford it, damn brat," he scolded playfully. He glanced down to Freed, who had a delightful blush on his sallow cheeks. "You still like Sapphire martinis, right?"

"Y-yes," he choked. The waitress would come over. She might see! She might see him like this!

The pitch to Laxus' voice dropped a bit. "Then you'll drink it."

It was an order. Although Freed feared that his hands were shaking too hard, he would keep calm just enough to obey and swallow whatever Laxus told him to drink. And that was _really_ the wrong way for him to think about it!

"So I heard you were in Europe, right?" Loke asked Laxus as the waitress left to get the drinks. "Where about?"

"Greece."

"Sweet! Hot babes in Greece."

"I wouldn't know," Laxus chuckled. "It was nice, though. I'd love to go back and actually enjoy it."

"All business, huh?"

A shadow passed briefly over Laxus' face. "That was the plan," he muttered, but he knew he could say nothing more. "Gray, Freed said you have a new job. What do you do now?"

The raven-haired man shook his head. "You'll laugh."

"Only if you say you're dancing ballet."

"Fuck you!"

"He is, he is," Natsu cried out in hyper glee.

Gray glared down at him. "It's _not_ ballet. It's more like … like modern dance with a classic flair."

"You still danced in that one ballet."

"I … th-that…" Gray's face went red, and he vehemently argued, "Their male principal sprained an ankle. I was just filling in."

"He's good," Natsu bragged. "You should see him do modern dance. He does the best Michael Jackson impersonation…"

Gray did something under the table, and Natsu cut off his words.

"Shut up," Gray glared.

"So how did a guy like you get a job like that?" Laxus asked. It wasn't like _exotic dancer_ looked good on a resume.

"I know a lady at the opera house," said Gray. "Mira's been bugging me to work for her since just after high school."

Freed jolted up. "You know Mira?"

Gray looked confused. "Yeah, we were in the same same high school and same orphanage for a while until she got a job modeling, and then that opera gig, and I … well … I had some troubles with the law and my life has been hell … until now," he added, smiling at Natsu.

Freed wanted to ask more about his acquaintance with Mira, but Laxus' hand suddenly slid upward, stroking over the erection in his pants. His words choked before they could be uttered, and Laxus hid his smirk. He still did not like how that opera singer had hugged Freed with such familiarity, or the fact that when she had so obviously flirted with Laxus, Freed had referred to him as _just a friend_. Laxus was slow at forgiving things like that, so he would punish Freed now for the slip way back then.

"So, anything life-altering happen in the country while I was away?" the blond asked.

"We graduated," Loke grinned. "Freed got _magna cum laude_."

"Cum … loud-eh … huh?" Laxus smirked, stroking Freed again and seeing the blush in his cheeks.

"It means _with high honors_," Loke explained.

"I know what it means," Laxus said coldly. Oh, he would tease his brilliant little slave about that and make him _cum loud-eh_, all right! Over and over, all night. His precious pet shouldn't get cocky, after all. "And I'm guessing you got jobs now?"

"I'm already working," Loke nodded. "Freed was given a junior manager job and starts in a week. His dad said to take a vacation first, but of course he's spent it sitting alone at home, brooding."

"Better not be over me," Laxus chuckled, stroking Freed more.

Loke smirked slyly. "Probably watching a bunch of porn while you're gone."

Freed squawked out, "Loke!"

"Porn is fine," Laxus shrugged. "You should see the porn in cheap Greek motels." The gawking face from Freed was so worth mentioning that. "I don't care what you smack off to, so long as you didn't cheat on me," he said, glaring down.

"Of course not!" Freed cried out, shocked he would ask, especially in public.

"Well, there was that one guy," Loke said deviously. "Rufus, right? You had some sort of lunch date with him."

Freed paled in horror that Loke would dare bring that up. "Rufus was _not_ a date!"

Laxus' stroking hand paused, tensed, and pulled back away from Freed. His knuckles popped as he fisted his hand, while those electric blue eyes crackled in jealousy. "Who's Rufus?"

The frigid tone in Laxus' low voice sent a sickly shiver down Freed's spine. Oh shit, he was jealous as hell!

Loke answered with a shrewd smile, "Hot, rich, genius bachelor who's apparently interested in a _merger_ with Freed's family."

"It was business," Freed cried out in a panic. "I swear, it was _only_ about business. Laxus!" He looked up in dread. Why would Loke bring up _him_, of all people? Was he purposely trying to incite Laxus to anger?

"Hot and rich, huh?" Laxus said, sipping his beer with glaring suspicion. "Is he the sort of gentleman your mother would approve of?"

Freed croaked out noises, but he could not protest without lying.

"Did you two go out for drinks?"

"I only had one martini, I swear!"

"What did he order to drink?"

"To … drink?"

"Don't repeat me! What drink did he buy?"

Freed was confused, but then he remembered that Laxus had an ability to tell things about people by what they ordered to drink. "He ordered a gimlet and specifically asked for Cîroc."

Laxus suddenly snorted out a laugh. "Yeah, I've got nothing to worry about." He knocked back the last of his beer and flagged Cana for another.

Loke sulked and whined, "Awww, how can you tell?"

Freed swung him a glare. "Why do you sound disappointed?"

The wily Lion shrugged. "I wanted to see how he looks when he's jealous, that's all."

"_That's all_?" yelled Freed.

Laxus explained, "A gentleman knows that a _real_ gimlet is made with gin and Rose's Lime Juice, not vodka. Only pretentious pussies and arrogant assholes order it with vodka and still dare call it a gimlet. I would normally assume he was some arrogant brown-noser trying to show off in front of Freed and doing a piss-poor job of it, except he asked for Cîroc, one of the priciest of the top-shelf vodkas. That means he knows his brands, and he knows what's good. If he just wanted Cîroc, there are a lot of drinks better than a gimlet for enjoying the taste of that particular vodka. The act of ordering a gimlet with vodka rather than gin leaves two possibilities: either he's poorly versed in buying drinks and only knows two or three good ones, or he was trying to _act down_ for Freed's sake. Considering he asked for Cîroc and not Smirnoff or Absolut or some other more popular vodka, and the fact that he'd even bother to specify the brand, leaves me to assume he definitely knows how to order a drink, and thus should know what a gimlet is. Then there's Freed's mother."

"My mother?" he asked in confusion.

"If this douchebag is an upper class elite who can meet the approval of Freed's mother, it means he is of a higher social standing than the Justines. I don't see that woman approving of anyone even a little lower in wealth than themselves. This means he knows what the hell a gimlet is and definitely knows it's a gin drink. Gin is called the drink of the upper class for a reason, and things like martinis and gimlets and negronis are standard at gatherings."

"How would you know?" Gray laughed.

Laxus' eyes were cold for a moment. "Let's just say I'm … _familiar_ with plenty of fat, rich bastards." Just thinking about his days taking wealthy masochistic clients turned his stomach. "This douchebag is rich as fuck, and he knows it. However, he likely knows who Freed's friends are, and we poor saps are not as affluent as his one-percenter frat buddies. He wanted to woo Freed, so first thing is to make him feel at ease, as if he's hanging out with just another classmate. College kids are notorious for taking gin drinks and asking for them to be made with vodka, since it's cheaper and something they're used to. It's why college towns sell vodka martinis more than real martinis. Nearly every college kid of drinking age—and most under-aged—has had at least a Screwdriver and knows that vodka can be mixed with anything. Gin is a whole different level, and it's not a taste everyone likes."

"I honestly can't stand gin," Natsu confessed with his mouth full of pretzels.

"What Douchebag doesn't realize—and what he should have been able to tell right away—is that Freed has a refined palate for gin. Sapphire martini is his favorite drink, after all. Assuming Douchebag is a well-bred gentleman, he let Freed order first."

"How'd you know that?" Freed asked.

Laxus smiled down at him. "No offense, but you like when people take the lead, and it takes a whole five seconds of talking to you to figure that out."

Gray coughed to cover over a laugh. He also knew about submissive partners. Loke politely kept quiet, but he hid his smile with his drinking glass.

"Freed just said he had _only one martini_. That would definitely have been ordered with Sapphire gin. After ordering that, this douchebag ordered a gimlet yet changed it to vodka to appeal to what he assumes are Freed's standard of friends—which is plain shitty of him—and yet he can't put aside the part of him that still wants the top-shelf quality. If you're going to fuck over a gin drink with vodka to look less intimidating and more playful, at least make it a vodka that won't taste like shit."

"You could tell all that by what he ordered?" asked Loke.

Freed nodded with a quiet chuckle. "It's like a savant talent. Don't ask him to do it to you, trust me. You'll be second-guessing your drink orders for months."

"That still doesn't explain why you think Rufus isn't trouble," Loke pointed out. "He really seemed to be interested in Freed."

"Of course he was," Laxus said with the same arrogant tone he used in the bedroom. "Have you _seen_ my boyfriend? He's hot as fuck!"

"Laxus!" Freed cried out, blushing fiercely with embarrassment.

"The issue there was the fact that Mrs. Justine approves of this douchebag. Now, if she approved purely due to money and this guy ordered a beer or a margarita, I'd be worried as hell and have to punch him out of principle alone for flirting with what's mine. The fact that he's some ass-cock screwing up drinks to appear less pretentious yet doesn't have a fucking clue how to _stop_ being an elite douchebag shows that he's precisely the sort of man Liberty Justine would give honest consent to as a life-partner for her gay eldest son. I just can't imagine Freed _ever_ hooking up with anyone his mother would _actually_ like." His hand returned to Freed's leg. "He's a guy who wants a man who drinks whiskey and beer, not gin and champaign."

Gray looked at the two with pity. "So Freed's mother doesn't approve of you?"

The blond guffawed loudly. "She's about as close to hating my guts as she can allow herself to feel without breaking social propriety."

"And you're okay with that?" Gray asked Freed.

"She's not _that_ bad," Freed argued. "She was civil during Christmas."

"'Cuz I scared the shit out of her threatening to marry you."

"You did _what_?" Loke and Gray both shouted.

Natsu belatedly looked up. "Huh? Marriage? Wedding cake?"

Freed shrank down. "Y-you didn't have to mention that."

Laxus smiled smugly and let his hand drift under Freed's belt. "Of course I did." He reached down and felt the stiff arousal sheathed in latex. "Purely because I know it embarrasses you." He stroked down until he felt the cock ring, then carefully stroked back up, making sure the condom stayed in place. "You're cute when you're embarrassed."

Freed froze and gulped hard in dread. They were all looking at the two … and Loke was laughing softly at what Laxus had said. Laxus … was touching him! Not just through the fabric of his pants, but directly. His cold fingers were inside his underwear, and although a condom covered him, he felt the rough hands every time Laxus stroked down. His groin, thighs, and lower belly felt his callused skin, and those fingers … they gripped … so firmly! He wanted to moan and melt and surrender himself to these touches, but those pale eyes stared hard. Without words, Laxus was warning him not to make a sound, or to move, or do anything that gave away what he was doing.

Laxus broke the stare and looked back over to the others. "So, are you all the same age?"

Gray thumbed over to Natsu. "The brat here is a year younger."

"I'm only a few months younger than you," Natsu shouted.

"Are you working, Natsu?" Laxus asked.

He nodded excitedly at finally finding a chance to join the conversation. "I work at the fire station while going to college so I can become a fire marshal." His chest puffed out proudly as he said it.

"A small guy like you, a firefighter?"

Gray laughed as Natsu slumped crestfallen. "That's the same thing I said to him."

"Hey, I'm strong!" Natsu shouted. He put his elbow up on the table. "I'll arm-wrestle ya!"

Laxus would have normally taken up a challenge, but that meant letting go of Freed's cock, and the man beside him was just starting to really squirm now. "Another time, when we don't have drinks on the table."

"Come on! I challenge you, Laxus!"

Laxus arched an eyebrow at the cocky boy and glanced over to Gray. "You need a leash on this kid."

Natsu jolted hard and pulled back with terror on his face. His hand went up, touching the scarf as if to reassure himself it was still in place. Just then, Freed glanced up out of his erotic reverie and saw that startled expression and the telltale blush. He guessed that, like himself, Natsu was used to a collar. Was that what his scarf was concealing? Who else was idiotic enough to wear a scarf in summer?

Freed smiled to himself. Maybe Laxus would like to get him a leash as well someday. He could wear his collar, Laxus could hook on the leash, and he could be paraded around … of course, only in the fetish club. He liked that idea, going to that club where all kinks were safe and accepted, wearing his collar, and leashed! Being Laxus' bitch, with a leash…

Laxus took a drink of his beer and then leaned into Freed's ear. "Do you want one?"

He looked up, surprised that he had guessed.

"There's one in my suitcase, brought all the way from Greece. I saw it and thought of you." His voice lowered even more. "I want to see you wear it!"

Freed felt a surge of happiness, but the idea of wearing Laxus' leash, and with Laxus' collar—a Hanukkah present, he recalled—made his arousal ache more.

Loke looked over in concern. "Freed, you all right?"

"Y-yeah!" he cried out, his voice a bit high.

Gray had another enigmatic expression. Slowly, his hand drifted down under the table as well. A second later, Natsu jolted and looked up to him in shock. Gray hushed him with a devious smile.

"So, Loke," Gray said to the ginger sitting beside him. "What sort of job did you get? I heard it's working for Freed's company—or his dad's company—but what sort of job is it?"

Loke happily told them all the details of the job, and then went ahead to also tell them about Freed's position in the company, although he had not started working yet. Meanwhile, Laxus noticed how Gray's left hand had disappeared under the table, and Natsu had fallen quiet, no longer noisily munching on snacks. His cheeks were as pink as his hair, his fist pressed against his mouth to hold back noises, and he was already shaking from pleasure. He kept shifting in his seat, and Gray's face looked too focused for drivel about after-college employment.

Laxus felt proud that the obedient slave next to him was much better at hiding his reactions. Although Freed occasionally sniffed a bit hard to hide gasps and no longer picked up his martini glass after his last attempt at drinking showed the trembling of his hands, he still sat upright and seemed to be listening, although Laxus was fairly certain he heard not a single word Loke was saying.

Suddenly, Freed's fingers clutched Laxus' knee with the same grip he probably used with his fencing sword.

Laxus leaned over to Freed's ear again. "Are you okay?"

It took a while to speak, but Freed finally eked out. "I'm almost there."

"Are you really all right with this?"

He nodded stiffly, and Laxus felt a tremble.

"Don't let it show," he ordered.

"I'm … trying," he whined softly enough so no one else could hear over the blaring music.

"You're doing good."

Laxus pulled his hand out and used it to pick up his beer glass. That caught Gray's attention. He realized, that was the hand Laxus had been using, and a questioning look passed over his face. Were they done? So quietly?

Instead, Laxus let the glass cool his hand off and used a paper napkin to wipe off any condensation. Then his now-cold hand went back under. He touched Freed through his clothes, and the chill made Freed tremble.

Gray's hand now also reappeared, but Natsu looked pale and in anticipation for something, wary of Gray and scared of the people in this crowded booth. Gray pulled out his cellphone and tapped a few buttons.

"Sorry, gotta check something."

Gray clicked one last thing and immediately close down a program before anyone could see it. In the corner, Natsu made an audible gasp. This time, it was Laxus who gave the other couple a weird look. What was Gray even doing to Natsu when both hands were visible?

"Hey, I want all of your emails." He pulled up the address book of his cellphone. "We should get together sometime."

"Sounds good," Laxus said. "Freed, you go ahead and put my email in there as well," he ordered, so his hand did not have to leave off of stroking.

Freed obediently reached out to accept the phone, and Gray saw how his fingers were shaking. Laxus truly was cruel, making him work while suffering so pleasurably.

"Hey Laxus," Loke said, eying the brunette waitress. "You know that Cana girl. Do you know her email?"

"No," he answered curtly.

"What about Lucy?" Natsu yelled at Loke. He appeared to be trembling in rage, but Laxus had a good feeling he was shaking for another reason.

"Whoa, I'm not talking about being disloyal to Lucy," Loke swore. "I just meant … you know, the lady might know when good deals are happening at this pub."

Natsu glared irritably. "Yeah, right."

Freed suddenly gave a soft noise, almost like a cough trying to be passed off as a suppressed sneeze.

"Are you okay, Freed?" Gray asked.

"Sorry … I … I'm fine," he said, quickly passing the cellphone over to Loke, but all eyes were on him now.

In sadistic amusement, Laxus squeezed just a little harder and rubbed him more through the straining trousers. Freed made another cough sound and covered his mouth. He was so close … so ready to come … except now everyone was looking. Loke, Gray, Natsu, they were all looking right at him, and he was about to come, right here, in his clothes, in public. He coughed again and choked down a moan.

"Just … swallowed wrong," he gagged.

He could not hide it anymore. He pressed his lips together and hid behind a cough, then another, pretending like he was gasping and choking, while under the table…

It was humiliating! He was having an orgasm in front of his friends. Even when he had been a roommate with Loke and they watched porn, they were strict about one rule: finish off in the bathroom, not in front of one another! So for the first time in the four years he lived with Loke, he was breaking that solemn man's rule.

He was coming! He was coming from a hand job in public, coming in a crowded pub, coming in front of Laxus, _because_ of Laxus. He wanted to please his master, to fulfill his fantasy of making Freed come in his pants in public again, a wish to see utter humiliation.

And God, this was the worst! He was filling up a condom while others watched. It protected him, his clothes would not be ruined, but it was still a public orgasm. In front of all these people…

"Freed?"

"Fine!" he coughed. "Just … tickle in the throat. Wrong pipe. Choking … a little, but … I'm f-fine."

Finally, it was over. The last spasm passed, but he was fairly certain he could not speak, or think, or move. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck, his penis tingled as the pressure built up from the cock ring relaxed, and blood rushed deafeningly through his ears.

All of these people. All of them! He had just had an orgasm, in public, in front of over a hundred people!

"Freed."

That low voice startled him, and he looked up to Laxus with tears in his eyes. Had it been okay? Had he pleased his master?

"Here."

Suddenly, that huge fist pounded on his back. Freed was shocked. Was it punishment for a bad job? No, Laxus was playing along now. He had done good, and now Laxus had to cover over the truth of what they just did.

He had just given his boyfriend a public hand job!

They could get into trouble for this, so Laxus was taking responsibility. He rubbed Freed's shoulders as the fits subsided.

"Are you better now?"

Freed raised his gaze to Laxus, eyes watering, cheeks flushed, pupils massive with desire, making his turquoise eyes look even bigger. "Yes," he said breathlessly. "Much better!"

He felt incredible, both shamed and proud, humiliated and deeply relieved that he had done this and did not get caught.

Laxus had a proud face. Maybe Loke was clueless, and maybe no one else in this pub even realized what was happening besides someone choking on a drink, but he knew Gray had a clue, and considering the agony Natsu seemed to be in, he might have also figured out what Freed had just suffered through and was experiencing something similar. Freed just showed these two what he could do: sit there like a properly trained slave and accept his torment to the highest level with just a few coughs.

And that face! That goddamn deliciously submissive face! Laxus etched that face into his memories. He knew he was going to fap in the shower many times to this erotic expression for years to come.

Laxus leaned into his ear. "That was incredible. You did so good. I'm proud."

Freed felt like he could collapse right there. That praise was what he craved.

"That was a good hide, coughing like that. Brilliant! No wonder you graduated with that _magna cum laude_ distinction. You're amazing."

All of his life, people told Freed how to be good. Obedience was unquestionable. His family rarely praised him for doing what was already expected of him. Good grades, prestigious university, _magna cum laude_, junior manager now: it was all expected, nothing less would be tolerated, even more expectations and loftier ambitions lied ahead of him. There was no praise for meeting base-minimum goals.

Laxus was proud, though. Laxus told him he was good, incredible, amazing! It was the appreciation and recognition Freed had craved all of his life. He did not get it from his family, but he got it from his master!

"Damn, we gotta do this more often," Laxus said quietly. He heard something like a grunt from Freed. "Did you like it?"

"Yeah," he exclaimed, and he laughed softly. "It … it was…"

"_**Crap!**_"

Natsu suddenly bolted up, leaped right over the table, and ran to the restroom. Freed and Laxus flattened back against the booth in surprise as he rushed by like a fiery comet.

"What's up with him?" Loke muttered.

Gray had an arrogant smile as he tucked away his phone. "Must be something in the drinks tonight." He lifted up his glass and took a smug gulp.

Laxus shared a smile with him and arched an eyebrow. What the hell had Gray done to him? Gray held up the phone at an angle Loke could not see, and Freed was too lost in the afterglow to focus.

"Welcome to the digital age of WiFi and apps," he said secretively.

A wireless … something? Butt plug? Too bulky. A love egg? Yes! It had to be a wireless vibrating love egg slipped up the ass, and Gray was controlling it with his phone. That must have been why his hand went down and Natsu was shifting around. They were fitting the tiny vibrator up into the rectum. Once inside, Gray had control from his phone, and Natsu was left to deal with the purring pleasure on his own, suffering as quietly as possible, while Gray kept the conversation going so no one paid much attention.

"I want the name of that app," Laxus insisted.

"I'll email you," Gray grinned. He looked over with concern to Freed. "How do you feel, Greenie?"

"Greenie?" he asked. Only one person had ever called him that. Freed wondered if everyone who worked at the South Pole Club knew him by that name. "I'm … fine. Perfectly fine. That's a nice phone," he said, knowing that it was the socially proper thing to say.

Gray smiled at the device. "Got it a month ago, anniversary gift from Natsu."

"Anniversary?" asked Freed.

"Yeah. Six months. Seven now. What did you two do for your six-month anniversary?"

Freed wondered about that. When did their anniversary even count? That first night? When had that even been? It was sometime after the Fall semester of college started, but before Halloween.

"February was our six-month," Laxus answered. "I asked him out on August 30th, and February doesn't have thirty days, so we actually skipped that landmark. Our one-year anniversary is in three more months. I definitely have something planned for then."

"Oh?" Loke smiled. "A vacation? Maybe another trip to Europe?"

"Now, do you really think I can say in front of Freed?" Laxus scolded playfully. "It'd ruin the surprise."

Freed looked up at him in astonishment. Laxus remembered the exact day! If it was in August, that must mean he considered their very first time together as when they started dating. All the way from that first night? Did he really consider them to be a couple from that moment on? That was really sweet.

And … he was planning something? Freed had not even thought about their anniversary, it was months away, yet Laxus had something planned already.

Laxus noticed the shocked stare. "What?" he snapped gruffly. "I can be romantic when I wanna be."

Freed said nothing against that. He had seen how Laxus had his moments of romance. They were rare, but that made them sweeter.

Natsu dragged his feet back, pale and sweaty.

"Gray," he said, his voice raspy now.

Gray pulled out his phone and clicked something, and Natsu visibly relaxed. Then Gray pulled on a jacket he had stripped out of.

"Guess I need to take the kid home."

"Yeah, I gotta get to bed as well," Laxus said in excuse. "I think I'm still on European time. Jet lag is a bitch. Good time to call it a night."

"The night is young!" Loke protested. "You guys aren't heading off for a gay foursome, are you?"

"No!" both Laxus and Gray snapped possessively.

Freed reached into his wallet and pulled out two hundred dollar bills. "Pay the tab for me. Use the rest of the money to take Lucy to a _nice_ restaurant. She'd like that. I'll make sure she's invited to my parents' next party. I'd love to meet both of you at my family's estate."

"You are the best junior manager in the world, Freed. I'll see you Monday after next."

"Don't be late for work. Thanks again for moving the boxes."

"Hey, it's what friends are for." As they all climbed out of the booth, Loke shook Laxus' hand. "Take care of my old roomie, ya huge lug."

"I definitely will," he promised.

"I hope to see you around."

Laxus wrapped an arm around his boyfriend. "If you see Freed around, you'll see me around."

"Oooh!" chuckled Loke. "That's right, those were _your_ boxes we carried all day. So, you two will be living together, huh? Cohabitation?"

"That's right," Laxus said with a supercilious tone. He squeezed Freed a little tighter.

The smaller man looked up in confusion. Was Laxus maybe a bit jealous, since Loke had been the last person to live in the same room as Freed?

"Gray," Laxus said, turning away from the ginger. "Tell me when's your next dance. I wanna see it. Especially if you're in ballet tights."

"Screw you!" Gray laughed.

Freed shook hands with the other couple. "Nice to finally meet you, Natsu. Take it easy. Gray, you too." His voice lowered. "Be easy with him."

Gray raised an eyebrow. Did Freed know all along what he and Natsu had secretively been doing?

"Say hello to Mira for me. Loke," Freed called over just as Kinana walked by and the ginger's eyes strayed to her hips. "No flirting and cheating on Lucy. She's a friend of the family. If I hear you hurt her, I'll personally put out to have you blacklisted from every bar, club, pub, and strip joint in the county."

Loke paled a little. "You're joking, right? You can't _really_ do that."

"He probably couldn't," Laxus answered, "but I happen to have some blackmail on a very powerful politician who _could_."

Loke gulped hard, and when Cana walked by again, he did not even let his eyes linger on her.

Laxus leaned down into Freed's ear. "Do you need a restroom trip? You know, to slip out of that rubber?"

Freed's eyes had that imperious gaze he sometimes got, the proud aristocrat who had been raised to lead a corporation. "No," he decided, and boldly he whispered right into Laxus' ear, "I'll take it off in the car."

Laxus felt his heart pound against his ribcage. The damn little vixen! "Have I ever told you that you're incredible?"

"Not frequently enough. You need to tell me every day."

"Greedy rich brat!"

Freed simpered to himself, but before the others could wonder what they were whispering about, he turned to the rest of their group and yelled over the blaring music. "We'll get together again. Thanks for inviting me, Loke." Freed then pulled on Laxus' elbow, showing that he needed to leave, and soon. "See you around, guys."

They called out goodbyes to each other. Loke went to the bar to pay the tab and get another drink. Gray wrapped an arm around Natsu and whispered worriedly to him, asking over and over if he was okay, while they left to his truck. Laxus took Freed's hand and squeezed it.

"It's good to be home," he said as they stepped out into the clear summer night.

"I'm glad," Freed sighed. "I can't even tell you how glad I am to have you home so soon."

"Not soon enough. Let's go." Clutching tightly to his fingers, he pulled Freed along through the parking lot, eager to get home and to more fun.

**Next Chapter: Corvette Kinks**

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_A/N: Here's another audio chapter, for the people who love to listen to these while fapping, haha: chirb =dot= it/r8bn94_


	26. Corvette Kinks

Chapter 26

**Corvette Kinks**

Hand in hand, Freed and Laxus left the Fairy Tail Pub. The night was warm and dark with a tiny crescent of a moon in the sky. Simply walking beside the blond giant, Freed felt safe. He feared nothing at all with Laxus around. Timidity, humiliation, the possibility of thugs trying to rob a wealthy man like him, none of those fears surfaced with his master protecting him. Happy to the point of giddiness, Freed walked over to a silver Corvette.

"New car?" Laxus asked.

"A graduation present from my father," he explained.

"Sweet! Wanna know what my grandfather got me for graduating high school? A steak dinner. That's it."

"It's the thought that counts."

"Yeah, but his thoughts cost thirty dollars, not thirty grand."

Freed unlocked the car and carefully sat down. The condom was starting to slip, and the cock ring felt oddly loose now. He would probably have to take them both off before attempting to drive.

He saw Laxus standing at the passenger door, not even grabbing the handle to open it. Freed had to fight the instinct to open the door for him. He remembered that Laxus hated that. However, he wondered why Laxus was not entering. He double-checked the doors to make sure they were unlocked.

Was he worried about ruining the moment by getting carsick?

Suddenly, Laxus yanked open the door and sat down hard. He stared ahead grimly, but something looked off. It almost appeared like he was already sick, but that wasn't quite it.

"Do you have tissues in here?" he asked peevishly.

"Um … sorry, no. Is something wrong?"

"Not wrong, just … I … I hate to ask this, after what I promised earlier," he mumbled.

Freed tensed up. Laxus sounded like something was really wrong. Was he sick? Drunk? Dead tired and unable to have sex tonight? Freed pitied Laxus and placed a hand on his forearm.

"Whatever it is, it's okay," he said.

Laxus sneered, looking ill again. Then suddenly he yanked his zipper down and pulled out a fully firm arousal.

"Whoa!" Freed cried out, leaping back over to the driver's side. _That_ was unexpected. He looked around sharply, wondering if anyone could see them.

"I need you to suck my cock," he said breathlessly.

Freed's eyes grew massive. "What?" he cried out. He looked around again. On the other side of the parking lot, he could see Natsu getting into Gray's truck.

"You heard me," Laxus snapped. He grabbed his erection. "I'm ready to blow. I was in the pub. Damn near came five times already." He gulped hard, obviously struggling to keep himself under control. "Come on, please! I'd do it myself, but you don't have tissues, I don't have another condom handy, and I already know I'm built up. It'll be messy as hell. So please. You gotta do this or else I'm shooting cum onto your upholstery! One way or another, this thing's gonna blow, and soon! Shit!" he hissed. "My hand or your mouth, Freed. Come on!" he shouted.

"Uh … Ye- … o-of course," he said. He looked around again. Gray's truck was just leaving. He saw no one else in the parking lot. Freed quickly moved his long hair aside and leaned right over to Laxus' seat. He twisted around, trying to get a good angle. It was horribly awkward, but somehow he laid half on his side, half bent over, and at least his mouth was near that leaking arousal.

Laxus sat straight up, staring forward and looking angry that he was this weak against Freed's sensuality. "Just go for it," he whispered. "I'll keep a lookout."

Freed eyed the flushed shaft and circumcised head. He had wanted this cock so much earlier. Now … it was his!

He dived down, thrusting it into his mouth. Immediately, Laxus shuddered out a deep, primeval groan. The sounds of slurping, lips slicking, and soft suctions filled the narrow space of the car. Laxus yanked at Freed's hair, keeping it up off the floorboard and also pulling his head to a better angle, comfort be damned!

"Shit," he hissed. Freed's mouth worked fast and heated him. "Wait. No."

Freed pulled up with a string of moisture thinning out from his lower lip. "What? What's wrong?"

"I don't want it like this."

Freed wiped his mouth and looked hurt. "Is it bad?"

"No! Hell no! But…" Petulantly, he confessed, "I want my first load to be in your ass."

"Uh … we're in a car," Freed pointed out awkwardly.

"I know, and I said we wouldn't do it in public, but we are anyway, so…"

Dammit! He did not want to do anything that could honestly get Freed into trouble, and even this much, just sucking him in the car, could do it. At that moment, he didn't care! He was close, so damn _painfully_ close, but he wanted to do this _his_ way.

"Get up here!" he sneered.

He yanked Freed up with rough force, twirled him to sit facing outward, and placed him on his lap. Yes! This might actually work like in porno movies. He reached around, yanked Freed's belt off, and almost broke the zipper pulling it down. Then he shimmied Freed's pants and underwear down to his knees. He reached into the glove compartment, where he knew Freed normally kept a tiny bottle of lotion for chapped skin when riding around with the convertible top down. It was in there, and he pulled it out. Laxus squeezed lotion onto his hand and rubbed a copious amount onto his arousal. That was the best he could do. Not the best position, in the parking lot of a crowded pub, hand lotion, and no condom, but that made this more dangerous, primal … erotic!

He massaged Freed's butt cheeks and rubbed some lotion onto the pucker waiting for him. He did not really give time to prep him. He stuck a finger in, then almost immediately added another, stretching him as fast as he dared. Freed's fingers grabbed the dashboard, and his head crashed down as he strained not to make too much noise. Then quickly, the fingers yanked out, and Freed's thighs were bruised with gripping hands pulling him closer, lining themselves up.

"Laxus?" Freed shivered. He could feel the tip poking at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.

He stuttered something that wasn't quite a yes, but also not a no.

Laxus kissed the back of his neck. "This is going to hurt," he warned.

Freed took a few breaths, calming himself and relaxing everything below the waist. If he could be totally relaxed, it would stretch easier.

"Do it," he whispered.

Laxus cringed in regret. "Sorry."

"No!" he shuddered. He glanced back around and looked Laxus firmly in the eyes. "Do it."

Freed sat up at the best angle, pulled his own cheeks apart, and began to lower himself. Right away, there was discomfort, and he ignored it. Then as that cock drilled him open, it turned into pain, burning, and a sensation of being filled in a way that never happened except when a cock that large pierced him.

Freed slapped a hand over his mouth as cries screamed out with tears. It had been a long time, and he almost forgot how Laxus got wider, wider, filling him with pain and heat. Pleasure was coming. Soon. Real soon. Dear God, he hoped it was soon! He _hurt_.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Laxus kept repeating, yet he did not stop. He was seriously ready to shoot out at any moment. He wanted all of his seed to be inside Freed, _all_ of it! It was greedy, and now his greed was making Freed cry again. He kept waiting for Freed to pull off, or to shout _Écriture_, but he never did. He kept lowering himself out of his own choice, although Laxus could tell it was painful.

Finally, he was all the way inside, and Freed sat there on top of his lap, breathing fast and hard, with the streetlight gleaming off his tears. It burned, but he wanted to be brave. He had been so good in the pub. He wanted to please Laxus more, and that meant keeping quiet so they would not get caught.

"Are you okay?" Laxus asked again, hugging Freed and holding still.

Freed panted through pain as it slowly changed, softened, and the pleasure was almost there. "Y-you're bigger than I remember."

Laxus gave a weary laugh. "You mean bigger than your butt plug."

Freed sheepishly admitted, "I guess, yeah."

"Have you been using that?" Laxus slowly pulled out.

Freed cried a little at just that much. Laxus pulled until only the head was inside. "Y-yeah," he replied, shaking at the expectation. "Sometimes."

Laxus thrust in deep, and Freed's head bowed back with a shout.

"Yeah?" Laxus pulled Freed up again and then slammed him down onto his lap. Freed bit his hand to hold back the cries. "How often…" _Thrust!_ "…do you u-use it? Oh, fuck…" _Thrust!_

Freed forgot about being in public. This was like any other place for sex, like the hotels they used to rent, or like the VIP room, where someone might be watching.

"M-maybe … _nnngh_ … once a _… ahhn_ … week." The pain was already fading, and he began to slide his ass on his own, rubbing the best way for him.

"And … _arrgh_ … the rest of the time? Shhhit!"

"Hands," he cried out with a shiver. "Just … _ahhn_ … my hands. L-Laxus!"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." It felt so good now. It was a feeling he still remembered with sweetness, and as he stretched, he allowed himself to rock into the thrusts until Laxus was slamming right where he needed it most.

Laxus wrapped his arms around Freed and felt the erection revived. "You're hard again."

He whimpered in pleasure. "Can't help it."

Laxus grabbed him and began to stroke, not just light touches and through clothes like earlier, but fully, quickly, pumping him to pleasure him in thanks for giving into one of his selfish whims. Freed panted, and the windows of the car began to fog with the rising heat.

"You've still got this condom on, and you're this hard. Little slut," Laxus teased, and Freed whined shamelessly at the crude words. "Well, if you've gotta go … _unnnf_ … let it blow."

The hand stroking his sheathed cock gave no mercy. Freed wanted to just please Laxus. He worried that if he came twice in a row, he would wear out long before sunrise. His fingers clenched into those muscular thighs, but he knew he was quickly going past the point of no return.

Laxus urged him on. "Seriously, don't hold yourself back."

"But … but I…"

"I want it. Here, in your goddamn car. I want it! Both of us. I wanna fuck you in the toy your daddy gave you."

"Laaaaaxus!" he screamed.

"God, I love when you scream my name." He gave a tense laugh as he realized how weak he was around Freed. "I'm … ready to go … _now!_"

He unsnapped the cock ring, freeing his lover to come at any time. The rush of blood made Freed scream and convulse in a pleasure he could not control. Laxus gave a few more piercing thrusts while stroking Freed hard and fast. Laxus grunted and let out a low roar like a dragon as he came, bursting into Freed.

"L-Laxus! Lax- … _aaaah_ … -us!"

"Shit, Freed. Shit." He felt himself filling Freed, and then his hand felt throbs as Freed wailed with no restraint at all. "That's … God, you're incredible."

He felt Freed pulsing out and the way his body tensed as he spasmed inside. Laxus glanced over the thin shoulder and down. Already, there was milky cum in the tip of the condom, but now more shot out, ballooning the latex barrier.

"Freed." He grabbed around him, crushing him into a hug. "Freed," he shivered. "I've been needing you. So much! Too long. Too damn long. Freed," he sighed. "Love you. Dammit, I love you. So much. Freed … so much," he whispered as weariness washed over the pleasure and tingled him like an electric shock.

Freed felt shaking in those arms and Laxus' voice growing thicker. Was he crying? In any case, Laxus was holding him so tightly, there was no way he could turn around.

"I love you so much," he whispered ardently. "How do you overwhelm me like this? I still don't get it. Damn! Miss you. Missed everything. I don't ever want to leave you again!"

Freed smiled, but part of him knew deep down, this would happen again. Laxus would find his father and take off. And he would wait. He would wait like he did this time, without flirting or even feeling compelled to fantasize about anyone else. And maybe the next time, their love would be even greater when they got back together.

That was an unknowable future, though. Right now, Laxus was resting his sweaty head on Freed's shoulder and breathing onto his skin in exhausted puffs.

"Love you," he said so softly, it was just a wisp of air. "Sorry about that."

"No need to be sorry," Freed said in amusement. Finally the arms loosened enough so he could at least look backwards. "I missed you, too."

Laxus laughed and finally looked up. His eyelashes were wet from tears, but he had a smile. He grabbed Freed's cheeks, pulled him closer, and kissed him hard.

"Freed," he whispered ardently.

He looked like he was about to say more, but just then they heard the music from inside the pub get louder, then softer as a door opened and closed. Laxus looked up sharply and saw a group leaving. They needed to get out of this position before anyone noticed.

"Can you hold it inside?"

Freed blushed. Hold Laxus' cum … inside. Keep it in there. Keep it safe inside of him, let it sit inside.

"Yeah," he nodded. He would take care of things this time. He would clench up and not let it out.

"Go slow. Don't let it spill out."

Freed nodded and started to lift his hips. Laxus held onto him, slowly hoisting him up. He felt Freed tensing around him already, ready to pull off without spilling any of the cum. Freed began to whimper again. As they got to the tip, he carefully slid off. Freed gave a soft cry as he shrank back down, and instantly, despite the pain, he clenched his ass tight.

It was inside him. Cum … held inside!

"Pull my pants up," he said tensely, keeping clenched.

"Right," Laxus said, now in a rush as the group of revelers came their way. He yanked Freed's pants back up, zipped them, ignored the top button, and just pulled the belt on loosely.

As the group came nearer, Freed shifted over to the driver's seat. As soon as he sat down, pain shot through him. He slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Are you okay?" Laxus asked in dread.

Freed shook his head in honesty. It seriously hurt! However, the group was only three cars down from them. He had to keep quiet.

Laxus saw the restraint in his sweet lover, and he felt miserable, putting him through this after he said he would keep him safe. "I'm so sorry," he cringed. "I would offer to drive, but…" He had never driven a car in his life due to his motion sickness issue.

"No, I … I just need … I'll be fine." Slowly, his ass adjusted to the idea of sitting. It probably would not have hurt this much, except he needed to stay clenched. Still, he tried to grin. "Now I've got cum in a condom on my cock and up my ass." He chuckled, but then pain cut off his forced attempts to play this off. "Laxus, I … I'm gonna drive really fast, and I'm not going to wait for you if you get sick."

"I don't expect you to," Laxus said, tucking his cock away. He pulled his seatbelt on.

"All right," Freed sighed, steeling himself for the discomfort of driving with his ass on fire. He needed to get home as quickly as possible. "We're peeling out of here."

The ignition rumbled, the Corvette's engine roared, and he pulled out of the parking lot as fast as he dared. Once on the main street, tires smoked as he squealed off in a rush.

Laxus grabbed at his seatbelt as he was slammed back into his seat from the speed. "Whoa! You weren't kidding."

Freed's eyes were focused on the evening road. "We're getting home fast!"

"Uuurk!" Laxus felt nauseated, but he realized his discomfort was nothing compared to Freed's. "I won't complain," he decided, even as acid shot up into his mouth.

They drove down the road at speeds that were probably illegal. Freed raced to miss yellow lights, and Laxus was pretty sure at least two were technically red. Even as his stomach churned, the unsteady breathing from Freed told him that his temporary sickness was nothing in comparison to what he just did to his lover.

Finally, they had to stop at a light, and Laxus heard the ragged breaths.

"I'm really sorry," he said again.

"You needed it," Freed shouted, his voice grating as he struggled with keeping his body clenched, "and … I wanted it!" Freed took his focus off the street light. "Your cum is inside me, Laxus. This is what I wanted. It's what you promised: to fill me with your cum until I burn for a week."

"I could have just had you swallow."

Freed chuckled as the light turned green and he was forced to follow traffic. "Don't go all softy on me right at the start. I don't want that." He glanced over briefly. "I want to ache for you."

Pride surged within Laxus. His slave was willing to withstand anything to pleasure him. In return, he would pleasure Freed as thoroughly as possible.

"You'll never forget tonight," he growled. Then another shot of acid burped up, and the beastly sadist looked ready to turn green with sickness.

In just a few minutes, they were at a nice apartment complex that looked more like a resort hotel.

"You live _here_?" Laxus exclaimed as Freed eased into a designated parking spot. "Aren't these expensive?"

"Who are you talking to?" Freed smirked haughtily.

Laxus glared over. "A damn rich boy, that's who!"

Freed chuckled. He could hardly wait to spoil Laxus in luxuries. Maybe this apartment was more than he needed on his own, but he wanted to build a home with Laxus, to give him everything he never had as a child. That started with undying love, a soft bed, and a home that wasn't infested with cockroaches.

Freed opened his door and began to shift, but the pain shot through him again. Like a flash, Laxus was out of the car and by his side.

"Just relax."

Suddenly, Freed felt himself being lifted. He gasped as Laxus easily pulled him out of the car and into his arms.

"I'm taking my lover home for the first time," Laxus explained. "Of course I'm carrying you over the threshold."

"Not all the way up!" he cried out in embarrassment.

"I love that face you make," Laxus growled hungrily. "Don't forget to lock your car."

He slammed the door shut with his foot and began to haul Freed away while the smaller man fumbled with his key fob to hit the button that locked the doors. By the time the car beeped to show the alarm was activated, Laxus and Freed were out of sight.

**Next Chapter: Wash Away the Sins**

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_A/N: __There's audio again for people who like hearing me act the scene out. chir =dot= bit/K6c1H7_


	27. Wash Away the Sins

Chapter 27

**Wash Away the Sins**

Freed wanted to hide his face as Laxus carried him bridal-style into the apartment building, through a lobby where people stopped to stare, up an elevator ride alone where he was showered in kisses, through a hall, and finally to a door. Freed pulled his key out, Laxus unlocked it, and he kicked the door open with a bang, carrying Freed over like a newlywed.

"We're home," Laxus declared.

Finally! They were out of view of others. That had been humiliating! Carried like that, in public, in the new apartment where he was just starting to get to know his neighbors!

"Freed, look at me."

He turned his eyes up. Lips were instantly on him. Laxus gave him a powerful kiss, then pulled back smiling with a sort of joy Freed had never seen in him before.

"We're home," he repeated, but this time his voice trembled.

Freed stared in awe and saw Laxus getting emotionally overwhelmed as the truth sank in. From this day forward, they would be living together. They were now officially _domestic partners_. Although Freed had been living in this apartment for over a month, the sheer weight of it finally dropped onto him, and his eyes began to water as well.

They were home!

Their home!

Together!

Laxus clutched his lover into his arms and rested their foreheads together. "I love you," he whispered with all of his heart.

A tear dripped from Freed's eye as their noses rubbed together. "I love you, too."

Their home! Laxus realized, Freed loved him so much he got a place big enough for both of them. He had picked it out before Laxus left. He had wanted this place to be a surprise. Laxus ruined his plans by taking off.

A normal person would be furious at someone who suddenly up and left them, hardly giving a warning, and abandoned them for almost two months. A normal person would feel slighted and might not want that person back. Not Freed! Despite Laxus taking off and abandoning him just before college finals, graduation, and moving into a new home, he still got this place. A spacious apartment, big enough for two … hell, big enough to be a small house!

"Do you know what I want first?" Laxus asked.

Freed looked up in confusion. "Um … a drink?"

He shook his head and kissed Freed's cheek. "A shower. With you."

Still holding him, Laxus turned into a bathroom. Once inside, he finally set Freed down.

"Toilet," he ordered, and he turned away, stripping off his jacket and shoes while facing the wall to give Freed privacy.

Freed thought that bit of courtesy was sweet. They would be living together, things like toilets would become commonplace—it had eventually been that way with him and Loke in the dorm—but for now, Laxus had never lived with someone else who was not immediate family, and he was showing a bit of tenderness, giving Freed some privacy.

Freed yanked off his disheveled pants and sat to finally relieve the pressure in his ass. With it came a hiss of pain.

"Is it bad?"

"Hold on." He peed as well while still seated—he lost track of how many drinks he had—and then Freed wiped his ass, only to see bloody red streaks. "It's bleeding a little."

"Shit," he cringed. "I'm so sorry."

"Laxus, really, stop saying sorry. It's making me feel like we did something horrible."

"We just had sex in public, in a goddamn Corvette you got for graduation, in front of the pub my grandfather used to run."

Freed was distracted, staring at those bulging back muscles and firm deltoids. He watched the way his shoulder blades moved as he stripped out of his shirt, not in the way Laxus used to do on the stage under yellow lights, but casually, relaxed, unhurried. Freed felt lightheaded as he realized he would get to watch Laxus remove his clothes every day now. So Laxus' words jolted him out of staring.

"W-wait, the Fairy Tail Pub belonged to your grandfather?"

"Well, yeah! Oh … you weren't there when I explained that to the others." He began to tug off his leather pants, and Freed gulped as that firm ass was exposed. "Yeah, Gramps owned it until not too long ago. His father was one of the original founders, like way back over a hundred years ago. Then Gramps owned it. You could almost say it's a family-run business except there were other owners before Gramps, some lady and a really old guy I only met once. He wanted me to take over one day. As a kid, that was all I thought about, one day being in charge of Fairy Tail, making it the best pub in the city … no, the best pub _ever_," he laughed lightly with old memories of those idealistic days. "I even ran a few aspects of the business in my teens, like hiring new workers and punishing anyone who was lazy. However, by the time Gramps was ready to retire, I was in a bad place personally. I was busy with the South Pole Club, everything I did back then, and … well … I had issues," he muttered sadly. "I caused a bit of a ruckus within Fairy Tail, a hell of a huge fight broke out, and people got hurt. Gramps kicked me out, told me to never set foot in Fairy Tail again. Eventually, Gildarts took over. He let me return, but I didn't hang around like I used to. It's just … too weird now. I'm glad it's doing well, though. From the crowd tonight, it looks like business is booming."

Freed dropped his gaze away from devouring that muscular body. This was something about Laxus he never knew. He had not even met any of the Dreyar family yet. "Would you want to take over? Running your own establishment is quite prestigious."

"Who knows?" he shrugged. "Maybe someday. I wasn't ready back then."

"When was that?"

"Before I met you." Laxus finally turned around and looked down at Freed on the toilet. "You changed me, made me better, made me give a damn. I didn't really care about the future back then, or much about myself. I just wanted revenge. Now, there's a light in my future, bright and beautiful." He stepped forward and stroked his fingers along Freed's cheeks until he cupped his face with tenderness. "I want to build a future. Here. With you."

Freed stared, mouth dropped, not sure what he could possibly even say to that. He gazed up in awe and felt a tear slip down his cheek.

"Are you done?"

Freed nodded silently.

Laxus took his hand and pulled him up to his feet. "This is the one time I'll be gentle tonight. The only time! I just…" He sniffed hard as he firmed up his resolve. "I need to show you."

Freed waited in confusion and anticipation, but when Laxus said nothing else, he finally asked, "Show me what?"

Laxus stumbled over his words as he tried to think of how to express himself. "I … I don't just want your body. I don't purely want you as someone I can … um … _do things_ to. Horrible things," he admitted quietly. "I need to show you how much I love you, and that I want you in every way. Maybe I'll be cruel sometimes, maybe I'll do things that will make you cry…"

Like leaving him! Leaving him just before finals and moving, with no warning, just a farewell, some sex, and walking away the next morning. Laxus deeply regretted doing that.

"… but, I love you so much!" he declared. "Sometimes, I'm confused. I don't even know what I want. Part of me wants to see you _screaming_, striped red, unable to take anymore; and part of me just wants to hold you and be as goddamn tender as I can be. But … but that's just not me," he said with a wry laugh. "Or … it wasn't. I don't even know anymore. I just know, I need you, and I need to show you how much you mean to me."

Freed trembled in awe. Maybe he wasn't a man of erudite words, but when Laxus said things like this, it was Freed who was left speechless.

"Y-you don't have to show me." He took Laxus' hand and traced a finger over the silver ring. "I already know."

Laxus shook his head. "I _need_ to show you. I need you to understand, because I don't even get it sometimes. I don't get how I feel so … so … _so damn much_ in love with you!" he blurted out. "So much, I can't even say it. I don't get it at all. So I need to show it. My brain is too stupid I guess, but my body knows. No," he whispered, shaking his head. "My _soul_ knows. My soul understands, and I need your soul to feel it."

His hands ran up and down that naked body.

"I want it to sink in, all through you, deeper and deeper, until it reaches your soul. That's how I feel when I do those cruel things to you. Until I met you, I just liked hurting people, but it's not that way with you. Maybe it started off that way, but it's different now. I feel like I just can't reach your soul. Telling you isn't enough; even sex isn't enough. I'm just telling your brain when I say it, and telling your body when I take you. I'm not reaching your soul! I need to yank and beat and ravage this body so that I can dig deep enough to expose everything.

"But sometimes," he said quietly, "I see it without all of that. I hate the idea of just using sex all the time, and I figured there's gotta be a way to see your soul, to touch it, to communicate with it, without beating the fleshy bits away. When I'm gentle—really gentle—I see it too. It's harder to see that way, like a small flash instead of nakedly exposed, but it's pure. Our last time together, I saw it. Brighter than ever! It's not a soul that's been torn to the surface, but a soul you allow me to see, even if just a flash. And in that moment, I know you're _letting_ me see your soul. I'm not ripping it out. Somehow, that's a nicer view. I feel like I can truly communicate with that soul. That's the only time I can tell you that I love you, and I know—I _know—_it's reaching you: mind, body, and soul."

Laxus saw the blank look in Freed's face, and he began to blush.

"Shit, I don't even know what I'm saying anymore," he grumbled. "That was all stupid nonsense."

"It wasn't," Freed whispered. He reached up and took Laxus' cheeks into his hands. "That was the single most poetic thing anyone has ever told me in my entire life."

"Shut up," he muttered petulantly as his face turned red. "I just wish there was some better way to show you. I wish I could buy you a car, or … or give _you_ a house. Give you something, anything, that could show you."

"You gave me this." Freed held up his hand and showed the promise ring.

Laxus looked at the ring and smiled, happy to see that Freed was still wearing it. "Yeah," he sighed. He held the hand, brought it up to his lips, and kissed Freed's fingers. "And someday…"

He let the thought hang, dreaming of a day when it would be a different ring, and on the other hand. Gold, maybe a diamond in the center.

"Someday … more," he muttered. He laughed gently to himself. He was getting overwhelmed again, and his eyes were stinging. "Shower," he said curtly, and he pulled away from Freed before he shamed himself by crying in happiness.

Freed stood there, a statue trapped within dreams of the future. With every step they took, there was more road to travel. They began dating. Then it was sex. Then meeting the family. Now, living together. Yet there was more. So much more! Even if they reached that matrimonial goal, there would be more beyond that, and in twenty years, still more goals, more adventures, more growth for their love.

Love does not culminate with a wedding, as if that is the final destination on a journey between two people. It is not a road that ends in some far off, obscure, anticlimactic way. It is more like the sea, no set path, no guidance, no maps, danger lurking deep below, but utter freedom to sail anywhere and never stop. A sailor never runs out of ocean.

Freed was beginning to understand, their journey never ended. They would always have another goal, another port-town to reach, but the voyage kept going, and where the Winds of Fate blew them, no one could guess.

"Hey, feel the water. Is this warm enough?"

Freed yanked out of his thoughts, went over to the shower, and stuck his hand into the cascading water. "Yeah, it's fine."

"Good. We need to wash you up. You're sweaty."

"I was moving your boxes all day," he told him as Freed eased into the shower. Another thing he checked when searching for apartments was the bathroom. He wanted a shower big enough for them to share. There was plenty of room for him, although much of the water was blocked when Laxus stepped inside.

"Why did you bring them in?" the blond asked as he closed the shower door, and steam began to build up. "Kinda piles up the place."

"I … I wanted to set everything up and surprise you."

Laxus let out a sigh and muttered a curse. "I just keep ruining your surprises."

"Well, _you_ always end up surprising _me_."

"In a bad way," he grumbled, thinking about the bombshell he dropped when he left Freed to fly to Greece.

"Tonight wasn't bad," Freed protested. "I _never_ thought I'd see you at that pub. That was a _huge_ surprise, and in a good way."

He smiled down at his slender lover. "Yeah, tonight's surprise was good."

He leaned over and pressed Freed up against the shower wall with a powerful kiss, letting the water drip on their faces. When Laxus parted his lips to slide his tongue inside, the hot shower water dripped into his mouth. Freed's sensual hum echoed through the tiled stall. That thin body slid up against Laxus' muscles, making both of them ravenous.

"I never should have left you," Laxus muttered between kisses.

Freed pulled back and looked up. "You're going to keep saying that all night, aren't you?"

"And into next week," he admitted in regret.

"You needed to leave," Freed stated. "It was the opportunity you had been waiting years for."

"That's what I keep telling myself," Laxus admitted, "but still … I shouldn't have!"

"Laxus," Freed sighed. "Laxus, you _needed_ to go, and I knew it would happen someday."

Laxus gazed ahead with a pensive face. "That's what kills me."

Freed knew. From the very first day, he knew what Laxus was planning. He still remembered the conversation that night. It was maybe only the third time Laxus had ever bothered to explain _why_ he took old, rich men as submissives when he was not gay. Freed accepted the sordid tale with ease.

_"Hey, if you ever find that father of yours, let me know. I'd like to get in a few punches as well."_

_"You … you're not … sickened by me?"_

_"I'm sickened by him, not by you."_

_"I'm the one beating up old men."_

_"They're masochists. They like it, and it's how you deal with your emotions."_

_"I thought you'd vomit and run away."_

_"I don't run out on friends."_

_"We're not friends!"_

_"Not yet, but I care about you."_

_"You care about Thor, some asshole slut who prances around on a stage."_

_"I care for whatever man is standing in front of me right now."_

_"… Laxus. My name is Laxus."_

_"Nice to meet you, Laxus. My name is Freed."_

Before Freed even knew his real name, he knew about Laxus' plans to torture and murder his father. Instead of the logical thing, which would be to run away from such a patricidal maniac, Freed accepted that darkness and even offered to help.

Of course, it had not always been so easy.

_"Is there any way you can maybe not have my father as one of your clients?"_

_"Yeah, I could drop him. I've dropped many clients. I have no reason to do so, though, and no longer seeing Llewellyn after four years would be way too suspicious. It also wouldn't erase the fact that they know me. I wouldn't drop him, anyway."_

_"Why the hell not? He's my father! … You beat my father … while thinking about how to kill your own father. Don't you see how fucked up that is to me?"_

_"I hit a lot of people's fathers. They pay me to do it."_

Laxus had avoided talking about his family all this time, and even avoided having Freed meet anyone related to him, because he feared what the young man would think. Yet Freed stayed with him. He accepted Laxus just as he was. Even the darkness was okay to him. His feelings were that deep, and Laxus felt someone as horrible as himself—someone who premeditated the torture and murder of his own father—did not deserve unconditional love like that.

"Laxus?" Freed asked quietly, looking up into his face with worry.

He sniffed back his emotions. "Nothing. Just let me wash you."

Laxus grabbed a loofah sponge and drizzled on soap that smelled like peppermint. The perfumed scent made Laxus' nose twitch. Well, rule number one of living together: no weird-scented bath products!

He rubbed circles around Freed's chest, working up a lather, then moved the sponge up to his shoulders, circular strokes, while Freed stood straight and tall, accepting the tender attention. His hands trailed down the slender arms with their thin but well-toned muscles, not bulging like Laxus' arms, but as his hand rubbed the soap suds up and down, he felt how firm those muscles were from years of fencing. He lifted the limp arm and made sure to wash the armpit as well, getting a small giggle from Freed that made Laxus smile. Such a sweet and innocent sound, considering the sensuality of this moment.

The sponge then went down the bony sides of Freed's ribs and over the softer flesh of his stomach, caressing gently until he reached the patch of curly hair below. That, he skipped. He went back up, turned Freed around to face the wall, moved his hair out of the way, and attended his back. Now, he put aside the sponge, getting plenty of suds on his hands and slowly massaging the tension in Freed's shoulders.

The moan that shivered out was purely pornographic, and Laxus sneered silently as it shot down to his groin. He was still too tired, but like his cock ever listened to him! He worked out the muscles in Freed's back, slowly making his way down.

Freed simply closed his eyes and braced himself on the wall, head cradled in his arms, not caring about the groans he was making. He remembered the day Laxus gave him a foot massage, the evening after he quit the South Pole Club and all of his old clients. Laxus' fingers were magical, and any strain from lifting boxes all morning and afternoon was now gone. The water ran in rivulets down Laxus' face and over Freed's body, washing soap and sweat alike down the drain.

Laxus turned Freed around. The hazy lust in those lowered eyes was almost too much. He gave Freed a single, passionate kiss, but that was all he would allow himself for now. He grabbed the sponge and continued with the wash. He knelt to clean Freed's legs, working from the hips down. He popped his knee out, lifted Freed's foot, and rested the heel down so he could wash the underside, working his fingers between the toes and pressing his thumbs into the arch. At that, Freed clutched into the short blond strands of hair, and his low groan made Laxus sneer at the restraint it took to hold himself back. Then the next leg got the same gentle consideration, with a slight foot massage as well, and more groans, more sneers, more struggling to remain gentle.

After that, he turned Freed around yet again, and Laxus began to wash the back of his legs, nudging his thighs apart a bit so he could wash the inside of them, up the ass, rubbing circles around those taut globes. He used his sudsy hand to nudge between the cheeks. Freed let out a slight hiss of pain. It was still sore here.

Laxus muttered half to himself, "I'll need to take care of you down there, put some medicine on it."

"I'm fine."

"You're torn. I'll try to be gentle."

"I don't _want_ you to be!" Freed said, starting to get sick of the guilt he kept hearing. He turned around to face Laxus with anger in his eyes. "Will you stop acting like I'm some fragile girl? I'm not going to break that easily, dammit!" He wanted his cold sadist back to normal, even if he had to rile him up.

"Idiot," Laxus scolded. "Do you really think I'm treating you like a chick? I'm worried about your ass, and I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be worried like this if you had a pussy that could fit my cock without tearing and shitting blood. I'm worried for you as my lover, and I'm worried about your ass because I want to slam my dick back up there so badly, it's taking all of my energy just to stop myself. If you think that just because I don't want you to end up in a hospital with colon cancer or some shit means I'm treating you like a girl, then fuck you! Just let me do what needs to be done. Let me do it the way _I want to_!" he snapped.

That was precisely what Freed wanted, to be scolded and ordered, not coddled. He had been catered to all of his life. He was sick of people fretting over him every time he hurt just a little. His cheeks flushed at hearing Laxus taking control again, and he lowered his eyes submissively.

"If that pleases you, master."

"Shit!" Laxus hissed. "Don't say that. I'll fuck you right here."

When his eyes lifted, they had a wily gleam. "Who says I don't want it?"

Laxus really had wanted to be good, to be gentle and not use sex to reach Freed's soul. He was almost done with the shower, and this slutty bitch couldn't keep a lid on his sexiness for _ten fucking minutes!_

"Damn you." He slid down onto his knees. "Then I'll do this."

He still wanted to be gentle, and Freed's ass was out of commission until he could get some medicine on it and make sure the damage was not significant. So instead, Laxus wrapped his mouth around Freed's erection and pressed down until it hit the back of his throat.

"Oh!" Freed cried out, shocked by the sensation.

Water dripped into Laxus' eyes, but he ignored it as his mouth worked, lips tight to get the most suction, tongue running up and down and pressing that penis up against the roof of his mouth.

"Laxus!" keened Freed.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he said smugly, stroking with his hand while he talked. "You can come if you want. It'll be your third time, and I wanna taste you."

As good as that sounded, Freed had just come twice in under half an hour. "I'm really tired."

"I bet!" Laxus chuckled smugly. "I still want to taste you." His mouth went back to work.

"I … I don't think I … aaahn!" he cried out as Laxus pressed so hard, Freed felt the tip of his cock smash against the soft, fleshy wall of his throat.

Laxus pulled back again to catch his breath. "You say you're too tired, but your cock doesn't agree. You're getting so hard."

"Because … you're good," Freed whimpered. Laxus made a smug grunt of satisfaction and returned to sucking. Freed clutched at Laxus' scalp and leaned back against the wall in surrender. "Oh God, so good!"

Laxus loved the way those fingers clutched at his scalp, nails sometimes scratching, but his hair was short, no real pulling could happen, not the way he could grab handfuls of Freed's luscious green hair and yank him. Freed's cock was perfect for sucking: not so thick that it hurt the corners of his mouth, yet thick enough so that he would feel it in his jaw for an hour. It was long enough to hit the back of his throat, but small enough so he could fit the whole thing in his mouth without some inventive deep-throating techniques. Doing this, pleasuring Freed in such an intimate way, was hardly shaming. It was arousing! It was bliss to suck on his little green angel. He wondered sometimes, who got more pleasure: Freed who got to thrust into his mouth, or himself for getting the chance to taste the salty bitterness and feel the glory of giving pleasure.

Suddenly, Laxus stopped and pulled back. It was not a one-sided unselfish act at all, not like he was wanting. He was getting pleasure from this, aroused just from the feel of that cock sliding in his mouth. It was pleasure he felt he should not be receiving!

"I'm sorry." He dropped his head and crunched up his brow.

"Wait, what?" Freed yelled breathlessly. "Don't stop."

"No, really, I'm…"

"Again, no sorries. Just … oh God, please don't stop!"

"I need to say this, okay?" Laxus snapped. "I'm sorry for leaving you. Sorry for making you cry. Sorry for not being here, for not helping you move in, for ruining the surprise you planned, for _always_ ruining your plans. Dammit!" he seethed. The guilt was really eating at him more and more as he took pleasure in Freed.

The young swordsman gazed down and stroked his fingers through the wet, blond hair. "Laxus…"

He glared up with pink lining his eyelids and tears mixing with the shower. "Why do you still want me?"

"Because I love you," Freed declared.

"Why would you love an asshole like me?"

"Because you're you. You're precisely who I want to love."

Why? Why did Freed love him so unconditionally? This wasn't fair. It couldn't be right. Someone like him … he didn't deserve this! Laxus used to think he would never find love. He had even begun to think he must simply be asexual since no matter what he did, nothing his partners did aroused him.

Then Freed came along, and the softest whimper made Laxus so overwhelmed with passion, he could lose all control. He was so in love, it terrified him. This relationship was so perfect, he just knew that one morning sunlight would shine in his eyes, he would awaken to the smell of an empty bottle of cheap whiskey and the mildew stench of his apartment, and the whole thing would have been nothing more than a dream.

Until that horrific wakeup happened, he wanted to indulge in this. He wanted to drown in love, except he feared that he might really change and no longer be someone he recognized.

Not like he acted _anything_ like how he had been nine months ago.

"I say _I love you_," Laxus said softly, "but that's not quite it."

"Huh?" Freed asked in confusion and worry.

"I love everything about you," he declared ardently. "I love your voice. I love your hair." He dropped his gaze. "I love the way your toes look." He leaned over and kissed Freed's foot.

"Laxus," he gasped airily. To see his thunder god kissing his feet was so … wrong!

Laxus caressed the arousal in front of him, just touching it, admiring it, worshiping that incredible phallic organ. "I love the shape of this cock. Just love it."

Freed moaned as those thick fingers touched him so reverently.

"I love its size, how it curves." His fingers followed the full length, arced like a scimitar, all the way up to the head. "I love how it darkens when you're excited." He softly kissed right over to slit, letting his lips suck away a little viscous pearl.

"Ahhn!"

"I like to play with the foreskin." Laxus watched in amusement as his hands brought the skin up over the head, then stroking it back down into wrinkled folds. "I'm Jewish, I don't have this, so I like to play with it."

Freed let out a shivering wail and shouted in frustration, "Come on!" This was too gentle. He might really come if Laxus kept this up.

"Sometimes I'm a little jealous," Laxus told him, slowly toying with the loose skin. "I wonder how much more sensitive I'd be if I had foreskin. It's something I think about once in a while. Weird, I know."

"L-Laxus!" He gazed down at the brawny blond on his knees before him. "I like you how you are, precisely how you are." Seeing Laxus knelt was somehow wrong. What sort of master knelt before his slave? "Stand up."

Laxus rose to his feet and towered over him. Yes! This is what Freed wanted, to feel small, to feel like he had no choice but to give up and surrender everything to this man. It made his heart race just being in the presence of this Norse god. He reached down and took hold of the thick shaft.

Laxus groaned deeply. Damn, those fingers were incredible! "What are you doing?"

"Giving back," Freed said happily, using both hands to cover his whole girth. "I like how you're so big, I can barely wrap my hands around it. You scared me the first time you pulled it out."

Laxus arched an eyebrow. "Scared you?"

"I had never seen one that size."

Laxus blushed at the compliment and laughed. "Kind of a monster, isn't it?"

Freed licked his lips hungrily. "It's _my_ monster." He stroked down firmly all the way to the blond curls and got a grunting moan from Laxus. "I like it. I like to touch it. I like…" He suddenly dropped to his knees. "…to kiss it." His lips drew closer, kissed the fuzzy balls, and then began to move up toward the head, mouth opened and ready.

"Nngh! No!" Laxus reached down quickly and pressed Freed's forehead back. "You shouldn't."

His eyes drooped sadly. "Why not?"

Dammit, those pleading eyes were almost too much for him. "It was up your ass. I need to wash it still."

"Then let me." He grabbed the bottle of liquid soap and squirted some into his palm. "I'll handwash it." Freed continued his reverent stroking, this time sudsing the erection. A loud groan of pleasure bubbled up from Laxus' throat. "I'll make sure the soap gets everywhere, clean up all of it," he said like some happy housewife in a horrible cleaning product commercial. He stroked the full length rapidly.

Laxus slammed a fist into the wall. "N- … don't." Again, he pushed Freed back and retreated a step.

"W-what?" Freed asked, worried about all these rejections. He knew they had been apart for a while, but he figured he could at least give a decent hand job still.

"I … really will … c-come," Laxus panted weakly, "and I want it either in your mouth or up your ass."

Freed tilted his head and smirked. "What about on my face?"

Laxus gazed down in shock. On his … face? His cum, all over Freed, messing him up, dirtying his perfect, porcelain skin. "Oh … shit. Oh shit!" He had to take a few breaths just to calm himself, but as he looked down again, Freed was waiting and more than willing. Laxus smirked at how incredible he looked, so eager to please. How could he possibly deny his slave from something he wanted so badly? "Then, go ahead."

Eagerly and with a seductive smirk at getting his way, Freed stroked Laxus fully, using both hands again since just one wasn't enough to fully encircle him. He squeezed just a little tighter, giving more friction.

"Oh yes!" Laxus moaned.

Then Freed used one hand to stroke while letting his cheek get in with the action, nuzzling the cock, soap, and precum while feeling the fleshy hardness press against his jaw and cheekbone.

Laxus seriously worried about Freed sucking him while he was dirty. After all, he had just thrust up into Freed's ass, no enemas, no condoms, no warnings. He yanked Freed up and slammed him against the shower wall, scrubbing the cheek and any filth that might have touched it.

"Let me touch you, too." He reached down and rubbed the curved cock in tempo with Freed's hand. "Don't come yet," he ordered. "I want to suck you off, so don't come yet."

Freed trembled, but he forcefully held back. "Okay. Together, like this?"

He took Laxus' large hand, used his own, and together they rubbed both of their cocks, sharing heat and friction. A low and primitive groan quaked through both of them, and Laxus found himself humping up against Freed, practically impaling his lower stomach over and over.

Freed panted at the friction, although the pain of Laxus' penis slamming into his gut kept him from reaching his climax. "I like rubbing against your cock," he said softly, purely aimed to drive Laxus crazy. "So big!" he groaned like an animal in heat. "I can use it to rub myself off."

"Freed!" Laxus cried out. Oh shit, if he kept talking dirty like that…

"Feels so good." His moan shuddered through the showering water and billows of steam.

"Oh … shit! F-Freed!" he trembled. Laxus grabbed himself harder, not bothering to touch Freed as well now, not with how fast he needed this.

Freed watched him, licking his lips deviously as Laxus sneered and lost the last of his control. He leaned into his lover's ear and moaned as crudely as he could. "It feels _really_ good!"

Laxus' fist hit the wall, his mouth dropped open as he gasped at the hot, damp air, and he felt it all gush, all of the need and lust draining out against Freed's skin, splattering those alabaster abs, while Freed's fingers drifted up to play with the cum. He drew patterns of whiteness around on his skin, finger-painting artwork that the shower quickly washed away.

Laxus gasped, swallowed more groans, and struggled to regain his senses so he could take control again; however, all of the nerves in his body tingled until the shower drizzles felt like fluttering tongues all over his skin, and the rush of blood in his ears deafened him like a flooding rainstorm.

Slowly, his eyes drifted open, and what he saw was Freed looking deliciously fuckable, self-pleased, almost smug that a tiny Sampson like him had defeated this blond Goliath.

"You little bitch! I didn't hit your face," he scolded.

"No," Freed acknowledged, not looking the least bit guilty that he had gone against what they agreed upon. "Now I want you to suck on me … with your cum on my cock." Freed smiled in a way Laxus rarely saw, eyes narrow and commanding. "Lick it up. Taste it."

Holy … shit. Laxus was not about to confess how incredibly hot that was. "You little freak!" He laughed at the role-reversal Freed had suddenly shifted them into. "Are you trying to act like a dominant?"

"Maybe a little," Freed shrugged. Not really asking for permission, he still asked, "Is that okay?"

"Fuck yes!" He dropped to his knees again, devouring that divine staff with zealous adoration. Dear God, he wanted this angel to be all his! He wanted to glorify him, venerate him, prostrate before his prostate.

Okay, he was really going off on some bizarre mental tangent, but Laxus could hardly help it. He might have been raised attending Jewish temple, but he had never truly believed in something divine until he met his sexy seraph.

Laxus suddenly pulled his mouth back and looked up at Freed. "Order me," he requested, begging for once in his life.

Freed was stunned. Order? Him? "What?"

"Tell me what you want me to do," Laxus smiled, his eyes so narrow that Freed swore there were golden sparks in them. "Command me how I should please you."

Laxus was … was … being submissive! It was too bizarre, and it took Freed's brain a while to process this. He muttered in mental shutdown. "I … I…"

"It's okay," Laxus assured him, caressing up those thighs. "I deserve it." He kissed along the edge of the groin, right where the hip met the curly patch of hair. "I need to atone for my sins." He kissed up the arousal, small kisses all the way up to the tip.

Freed said nothing, still in mental reboot. Laxus glared up that his slave was not obeying.

"Look, I'm serious," he snapped. "Give me some fucking orders! I need to make up for making you cry."

"Um … y-you don't—"

"Yes, I do!" he shouted. "Look, I need to atone for all that shit or else I'll keep feeling like an asshole all night, and … fucking it, I don't want that. I want to focus on you, not on the mistakes I've made. So make me do something as punishment."

Freed still stared as his brain continued to reboot, as if some hourglass was twirling in his eyes.

"Goddammit, I _need_ this," Laxus shouted.

That jolted him like an electric shock, and his capacity to think suddenly jumpstarted, although still sluggish. "Y-yeah. Sorry. Just … I … I don't know how…"

"Just give me an order. Anything," Laxus pleaded. "Do it!"

Freed thought about it. What did he want? What did he really, truly desire right now, at this moment?

He looked down at those waiting blue eyes and ordered softly, "Suck on me." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Laxus was on him, starving and groaning.

Freed gazed up at the shower head raining down on their bodies, and his hand blindly grabbed at the short, blond hairs, pulling and urging Laxus on while his hips made small thrusts. He felt the sharpness of teeth against him for a mere second and bit his lip hard to hold back the groan of pain. Immediately, Laxus' tongue soothed away the ache, and only his firm lips worked now.

The feeling of his cock being slowly, rigorously, and oh-so-desperately worshiped made Freed lightheaded, as if he was ascending a Jacob's ladder right up to heaven. Seeing Laxus getting completely drugged on the feel, smell, and taste of his dick was the most arousing thing Freed had ever seen. When those electric blue eyes looked up and that lightning-shaped scar quirked in amusement, it took all of Freed's energy not to shoot his load inside that perfect, hot mouth.

Laxus pulled back, slurping the whole way, siphoning spirals of cries from Freed, louder, higher, more desperate as his lips came to the flared head. It all popped out, and Laxus added in a few fleeting kitten licks to the sensitive slit. Freed heard garbled chants of his name mixed with something along the lines of 'you're amazing' and 'tastes so good.'

Eagerly, Laxus looked up at him and asked, "What else?"

What else? He had needed nothing more in his entire life! "Just like this is good."

"Nope." Laxus shook his head firmly, showing that this was not acceptable. "Something else. A real punishment. Come on, I need to atone and shit."

"Um … then…" He reached for a bottle of hair wash and held it out to Laxus. "You didn't finish washing me. Shampoo my hair." He sounded truly in charge now, like he was ordering a secretary to type up a report.

"What?" Laxus asked, chuckling softly in amusement.

"You heard me. Give me a shampooing."

Laxus took the bottle and looked down at it. "I don't think I've ever washed someone else's hair, and you've got a hell of a lot of hair."

"It's a bit of a hassle sometimes," he admitted, then imperiously demanded, "so _you_ have to wash my hair."

Laxus smiled at his sternness. "You make an adorable dominant."

"Shut up!" he shouted, but he still blushed a little. "What are you waiting for…" The corner of his mouth curled up. "…bitch?"

Now Laxus laughed loudly, and the musical guffaws rang through the shower. He smiled up at the green-haired man, feeling so much pride and amazement in him. He would never stop being in awe of this angel.

"I love you," Laxus smiled in chuckling happiness.

Freed gave him a soft but still imperious smile. "Of course you do."

The same damn words! Laxus never realized how hot it could sound to hear someone else talk that way. "Okay…" He stood up and leaned into Freed's ear. "…master."

Freed gasped at the wisp of hot air calling him that.

Laxus let his eyes linger on that face. "Do you like that? Do you actually _like_ being Master?" he asked shrewdly.

Did he? Freed felt how that title surged through him, almost the same way as how he felt when Laxus called him his _slave_, except it was slightly different. "I … don't know." It was so _different_!

"It's okay if you do … once in a while," he added strictly. Freed's face softened, the uncertainty melted, and Laxus got a glimpse of that aristocrat once again. He poured some shampoo into his cupped hand. "Let me know if I pull."

He started at the top, scrubbing through the scalp. Freed moaned, Laxus kept asking if it was okay, if it felt good, if he was doing it right, and every time he was answered by such sensual moans, he could hardly stand it. He tried to focus as he worked the shampoo lower. Somewhere past the shoulder, he had to get more shampoo. Seriously, washing this much hair was a pain in the ass!

"Don't forget to get all the way to the tips."

"Bossy, bossy," muttered the blond.

Freed shook a finger at him in scolding. "Don't complain."

That got a small laugh from Laxus.

"The scalp some more."

Laxus went back up and scratched his fingers through Freed's scalp.

"Ahhh," he moaned, tipping his head back to wash some suds away before they slipped into his eyes. "That actually feels really good."

"What, just washing your hair?"

"Mmm-hmmmm!" Freed replied.

That wanton moan made Laxus' worn out cock tingle, but there was no way it was rising now, leaving him dissatisfied.

"Ohhhhh!"

"Stop moaning," Laxus grumbled.

"But it feels _so_ good," Freed said in utter ecstasy.

"Shit," he whispered under his breath, but another hum echoed through the shower. Sharper, he told Freed, "Stop moaning!"

"But it's so, soooo good."

"Freed!" he snarled. Weariness be damned, he wanted to pleasure this man until he screamed.

Freed easily pushed Laxus back, showing the strength in those slender arms. "Nuh-uh. Punishment." He smirked, but then his eyes suddenly went cold. "You left me, so you have to take care of me now."

Punishment! He needed to atone, to wash away his sins, make up to Freed so he would stop feeling this dark guilt. He needed the purity that came with punishment.

"Yes, master." He took a deep breath to regain control of himself. "You really know how to torture me, though."

Freed shook his head. "I'm the one being tortured, making me feel so good."

"Now you know how I feel. Hearing you moan drives me crazy."

He pulled off the shower head and held it to wash all the shampoo suds away. Freed stood there as if he was used to someone else bathing him. Had that been a tradition in his family, to have a servant wash their hair, maybe scrub their backs?

"Mmmmmh!"

Shit, shit, shit! Freed sounded so fuckable, it was almost too much. "You're doing that on purpose now."

"No, it really does feel incredible. Don't forget to get underneath."

"Yes, master." Laxus tugged the hair up off of Freed's neck and held it out to be sprayed with the shower head right in his hair. Another shivering moan of "Aaaah" trembled out.

"Is that good?" Laxus asked, smoothing down the hair.

"Mm-hmm."

Laxus hung the shower head back up, and Freed turned around to face him. Laxus' eyes instant drifted down.

"You are seriously erect."

"I told you it felt good. Now," Freed smirked, "you're allowed to suck on it."

His sweet slave made an incredible dominant. "If it pleases you."

Freed gasped at those words, and Laxus chuckled. He was going to show Freed how incredible it was to have a servant cater to him. Maybe he had maids and butlers in his childhood, but he never had someone like Laxus Dreyar!

He took the wonderful hardness slowly into his mouth, torturing Freed by not gulping it down, but slowly pressing in deeper … deeper! Then just as slowly, he worked back up to the tip. He was methodical with his sucking for a minute, but then Freed must have dripped some precum, something that increased the taste and made Laxus utterly lose himself. Without restraint, he bobbed his head along the length. It was like vigorous and zealous worship rather than languid prayers. He groaned whenever the tip brushed the back of his throat, and those slight vibrations sent jolts through Freed.

"Nngh … Laxus? Can you…?"

"What?" he asked, eager to please him more, to get more moans and to give more pleasure. He had never desired something as fervently as now.

Freed was so close to losing control, but he needed something, just a little more! "P-put a finger in."

Laxus looked truly worried. He had not attended to Freed's ass yet, and he said earlier that he was bleeding. "Are you okay for that?"

"I think so."

"Let me put some medicine on it first." Laxus raised to his feet and smirked roguishly. "I'll rub it around … inside."

At the sensual suggestion, Freed collapsed against the shower wall to hold himself up.

Laxus got out of the shower, dripping water everywhere to fetch some medicine. He had to look through a few drawers, unsure where anything was in this apartment, but finally he found something that would work for now. He brought the whole tube of medicinal cream over to the shower, where the heat made the shivers in his wet skin ease away.

"Here." He squeezed a generous amount onto his finger. "Like this."

Laxus dropped his hand down behind Freed and slipped the finger within. He felt around and slowly rubbed the medicine within the tight constrains of the ass.

Freed moaned as Laxus' thick finger swiveled around within. "Yeah … ow!" He suddenly trembled with a face that belied the pain he did not want to show.

However, Laxus picked up on it right away. "Are you all right?" he asked, using his free hand to hold onto Freed's shoulder.

"Yeah. Feels so good," he moaned with a whimper hidden in the words.

Laxus chuckled softly as he gently slipped his finger in and out. "Bitch. Getting me turned on again."

"Suck on me," he mewled breathlessly, "and don't stop." He leaned back against the shower wall and softly sighed in surrender, "Don't stop."

Laxus knelt and nuzzled Freed's cock. Then he glanced up with feral eyes. "What should I do?" he asked sensually.

"Huh?" Freed asked, totally lost in the anticipation. What should he do? He just said what! Suck it!

"At the end. How should I end this?"

"O-oh. Um." His eyes flickered one way and another.

Ending it! Spit or swallow? Of course, it was Laxus' choice … normally. Tonight was not normal. Tonight, Laxus was handing over the power to control things.

Could he really demand something like that?

It felt weird, wrong. Although Freed had been ordered to do things plenty of times, doing the same to Laxus was strange. So many times, Laxus had proudly declared that absolutely no one forced him to do anything erotic. That was part of his glamor as the Thunder God. Freed was a mere mortal. How could a person who was nothing more than a weak man dare give commands to a god?

"D-do you want…?"

Laxus cut in sharply, "Don't ask me what I want! Order me!"

Freed gulped back the politeness in his request. Order him! Make him obey! Something flipped in Freed's brain. Lessons he had learned for handling servants at home, scoldings as his father brought him up to take over the company, training to be a proud man and in charge, a natural leader: they all clicked on.

Freed took the chiseled jaw into his hands, rubbing over stubble and sharp cheek bones. Gazing like a prince looking down on a serf, he commanded, "I want—um, no." He needed to be stern and give the order properly. "_You're going to_ swallow it."

Laxus hummed, glad to finally be getting his slave to obey his little whim. "Would that _please you_?"

"Yes!" he whispered, and a tremble went from his spine to his toes. He tilted Laxus' face up a little higher, just enough to put a strain on the thick shoulder muscles, and ordered as firmly as he could, "Swallow it!"

Laxus let that dominance roll over him, purifying him of his sins. "Yes, master."

Then the hands let go of his face, and his head naturally dropped. He felt the ache in his neck, but somehow that only reinforced that he had to obey.

Since it was an order, and Freed was already fully aroused, Laxus wasted no extra time with foreplay. He took it into his mouth, as much as he could in one go. It slid easily all the way to the back of his throat, and Freed's hips hitched in surprise. He felt fingers in his hair, tugs of encouragement, and listened to soft-spoken words, whispers of passion that blended with the hiss of the shower water.

"Yes. Suck there. A little more. That's good. Oh God, Laxus. Your mouth is incredible."

Laxus remembered when it was a mental struggle for him to give a blow job. He had bad memories of things being rammed into his mouth, gags to bite down upon as he suffered agony at the hands of his father. Once in a while, those memories surfaced.

It did now, just briefly, probably because of his failed trip. How old had he been? Things that happen in childhood tend to last longest. He was already forgetting about the clients he used to take, all the filthy things they said to him, all the depraved remarks Jellal used to say about his _harem of pain-whores_. He was forgetting that, but those childhood horrors never fully went away.

It was different now, though. He was never good enough for his father. He had been born weak and sickly, such a disappointment as a son that his father used his nefarious experiments on him, hoping to make him into a worthy heir.

"Oh Laxus, you're so good. So … _nngh_ … so good! I love you so much."

He was good enough for Freed. He got love from Freed, love his father never once showed.

Fuck his father. Fuck him! Fuck his past, and the pain, and all those years of living in darkness. Fuck it all!

He had Freed now. He was loved, he was appreciated, and he could please Freed. He had a purpose to life, and it was not to kill the bastard who tortured him. It was to show this man in front of him all the pleasures he could, to adore him, worship him, protect him, to be the best partner he could be, and to be as attentive as possible. His purpose in life now was to love Freed with all of his energy.

He had suffered with the mouth guard in his youth because his father wanted to create a worthy son. Now he was willingly being choked by Freed's cock because this green angel found within Laxus a worthy lover.

Laxus rested his hands on the shower wall to brace himself as his mouth bobbed faster. He loved the noises Freed made, little hitches of breath and half-stifled groans. He loved when those delicate but strong fingers suddenly pulled, belying the pleasure that was wracking his body. He loved how the taste began to change, and even if it was bitter, it was powerful, masculine, evidence that Laxus was not someone who disappointed everyone—a father who saw him as a failure, a grandfather angered when Laxus refused to take on the family business, a boss who thought of him as merely a sadistic slut—no, with Freed he was more. He pleased this holy angel, and this was the only way to seek atonement. He _needed_ this green angel's blessing.

"La- … Lax- …"

Freed's hips began to thrust more, snapping forward. Laxus groaned in shock. He remembered the Christmas party and how Freed had bruised the back of his throat with those powerful hips. It was happening again, a pain in his uvula as the cock pounded, hammering in. He might have moved away, but Freed had his skull in a vise-like grip, fucking his face without mercy. Instead of protesting, Laxus let his jaw go slack, loosened his throat, and allowed Freed to use him.

Pain! Punishment! Laxus put up with it. He had made Freed hurt, made him cry, and broke his heart. He deserved this. Freed would never spank him like a bad boy, but he could do this. He could ravage him, fuck his face, take him by force, use Laxus up in whatever way he wanted.

Not even words were coming now, just suppressed grunts, clenched growls, hisses of fast breaths seething through a face drawn up in agonizing pleasure. Laxus gazed up and saw that glorious ecstasy. He hummed, feeling the darkness leave him, knowing he was being chastised and purified. And now, like Holy Communion, he would partake of Freed's body.

The green head swung up, the tension in his jaws and neck snapped, and a howl like some demon roared out. There was a grunt of discomfort from Laxus as the blond was almost choked. Then Freed felt it. He felt that throat working, the tightness around his cock at each swallow, heard the gulps and the snorts of air as Laxus tried to drink it all down. Forcing him like this felt … good. Knowing Laxus loved him enough to allow Freed to use his body for pleasure made him so happy, he just melted.

Freed sank in relief, and Laxus yanked back as soon as his scalp was released. He coughed and rubbed out his throat.

"Goddammit, I forgot how strong your hips are!" He laughed to himself as he massaged the pain. He underestimated Freed sometimes, saw him as being a delicate rich boy, but in moments like this he saw this man's real strength: a champion swordsman who sculpted his body for his sport. "Freed, you're a sexy bitch when you get a chance to call the shots."

A sexy bitch? Hearing Laxus praise him like that made Freed's cheeks hot.

"Do you know what else I like about your cock?" Laxus whispered, kissing away some cum about to drip off. "I like that you're not that big."

Freed jolted right out of his afterglow. "Hey!" he protested.

"No, I'm serious. You would honestly kill me if your cock was any longer. You'd stab through the back of my throat. Shit, you and your piston hips!"

He coughed and rub out throat. He needed a drink to numb the pain now.

Laxus opened his mouth to get a little water to wash down the cum. Then he rested his head on Freed's slender thigh and felt the flushed skin on his cheek. The shrinking cock was right in front of him, and he watched its slow decline, still flushed, but twitching as it lowered. The shower was beginning to cool off, so he twisted the knob to bring on more heat.

"Well, that's three," he finally said.

Freed blindly reached down and caressed Laxus' hair in weariness. "I _really_ need a rest," he murmured, eyes closed and face slack.

Laxus lifted his head and smiled at the utter exhaustion. Slyly, he said, "No."

"No, seriously," Freed moaned sleepily. "I'm ready … to pass out." He could barely stay on his feet.

Laxus shook his head with a devious smile.

"Laxus…" Freed protested.

"No. I'm gonna…"

"Don't make me say _Écriture_!" he warned sharply. "Seriously, I'm not joking. I _need_ a rest."

Laxus backed down. He did not want to make this night bad by pushing Freed past his limits. "All right. We'll finish washing up. I need a drink. Then you can give me the grand tour of this new place. We'll make our way to the bedroom."

"That sounds good, but … it'll be a _slow_ tour," he warned.

Laxus rose back up to his feet and stroked the messy wet hair sticking to Freed's drenched face. "We could always tour the couch and cuddle."

Freed could hardly help himself. Cuddling? Laxus Dreyar, professional dom and sadist, was suggesting that they cuddle on a couch? He simply had to giggle. "Sounds good."

He gazed up, and the tenderness in Laxus' eyes made him smile. Freed could see for himself, the darkness was gone, the guilt had been purged, and Laxus looked like his old self again, confident, sexy, powerful, a blond god who could send jolts of pleasure crackling through his nerves.

Laxus leaned over, but he gave Freed only a soft kiss. "I'll finish washing you. No kinks."

He took the loofah. Freed was pretty much all clean, but Laxus did an overall quick scrub just to clean the sweat from all that passion. He grabbed a bottle of conditioner, and he let the creamy hair-wash cover the green locks.

"I love you, Freed," he whispered, nibbling the side of his neck as he stroked his fingers through the conditioner to wash it out.

Freed turned around to face him, letting the shower strike his head and clean away everything. He gently stroked Laxus' chest, up his neck, to his face, caressing up to his ear and cradling his sharp jaw.

"I love you, too," he sighed in heartfelt happiness. "We're going to keep saying that, aren't we?"

"All night!" he whispered ardently. "And tomorrow. And into next week." He wrapped Freed into his arms and kissed the top of his head. "Hopefully … much longer."

That sighed prayer was one wish Freed wanted to grant. "I hope so," he said in agreement.

Laxus closed his eyes, leaned over, and let his lips linger against Freed's mouth. His arms wrapped around the thin shoulders, not clutching possessively, but holding tenderly. The shower rained upon both of them, slowly losing its heat, while Laxus embraced Freed and kissed his gently, wanting this blessed union to be eternal.

He had his angel, and he was not about to let go!

**Next Chapter: Couch Cuddles**

* * *

_**Audio**: __chirb =dot= it/Jab3Ep_


	28. Couch Cuddles

Chapter 28

**Couch Cuddles**

Laxus had to say this much about Freed's apartment. The couch was incredibly comfortable. If he had been just a friend coming to visit, he could have comfortably slept on the spacious couch. Instead, he knew he had a bed waiting for him. A bed with Freed!

On their tour of the apartment, Freed had bashfully shown him the bedroom. He had not made the bed that morning, and he scurried to yank the covers into place now, but seeing that lived-in look just made Laxus more relaxed. After the scummy tenements he had slept in since leaving home, this upscale apartment almost felt too nice to live in. It was spotless, the carpets had no stains, the furniture was all new, it smelled like vanilla, and it was so spacious! At least, compared to his bachelor apartments that were pretty much just a space to sleep and shit.

So that messy bed, the robe tossed over a chair, the hamper with Freed's dirty underwear on top, and a wastebasket with wadded tissues (oh, Laxus _knew_ why he had so many tissues in there!) were all proof that he too would be living here. It was not some museum gallery. It was a home. Their home!

And that bed! Freed stuttered as he apologized if the bed was too small, and Laxus just had to laugh. It was a fucking king-size bed! All Laxus did was sit on the bed to test out the mattress: firm but not stiff, just how he liked it. It was like this brat had bought all of this stuff instinctively knowing precisely what Laxus had always wanted.

Then they popped open a bottle of wine—rule number two of living together: they needed more alcohol, and there should always be rum, brandy, or whiskey—and they had a quiet celebration. They toasted, they kissed, they curled up together on the couch to watch some TV, and here they were now, Laxus sprawled on the couch, Freed lying on top of him, their eyes half closed at the television screen, not really watching the rerun of _Full House_.

"You know," Freed muttered, "when I was a kid, I totally had a crush on Jesse."

Laxus hummed at that little confession.

"John Stamos was the hottest thing on TV."

Another hum.

"Of course, it's Danny and Joey who are in a homosexual relationship. It's pretty obvious, too. Dude married, had three kids, his wife died, and that freed his gay tendencies toward his childhood best friend."

A sleepy grunt.

"And Joey … well, you can't tell me Joey isn't gay."

"I agree with you there," Laxus murmured. "Dunno about Danny. Dude married a lady."

"Bisexual."

Laxus hummed as he considered that. After all, he still jerked off to ladies in porn flicks. "But Jesse, no way was he gay."

"I dunno. He seems to be overcompensating with the testosterone."

"Dude, Becky! The guy loved her, married her, and they had kids and shit."

"Let me have my childhood fantasies," Freed pouted.

"Not when they involve John Stamos."

Freed chuckled at Laxus' covetousness. "It's cute that you're jealous of an actor from the 1980s."

"Shut up. I'd be jealous if you told me Charleston Heston was sexy."

Freed hummed at that. "Nah, I'm more of a Humphrey Bogart man."

"Bitch."

They watched until the episode ended with everyone happy, a perfect TV comedy ending of course. Freed muted some hair-loss commercial and rolled around to look down at the half-asleep blond.

"Laxus?" He shifted some more, and an elbow poked down into Laxus' ribs, jarring him awake.

"Hey, I was comfortable," he grumbled crankily.

"You mentioned at the pub about a one-year anniversary. Can you give me a hint? I'm curious now."

Laxus gazed up into those turquoise eyes with their long lashes and beauty mark. "Heh, you wanna know what I got planned, huh?"

Freed looked like an eager child the day before Christmas. "Yeah!"

Laxus began to sit up, and Freed moved off of his stomach. Laxus took his wineglass, sipped the pinot noir, and wrapped his arm around Freed, pulling him in close.

"We'll get dressed up real fancy, go somewhere … special. We'll eat good food. I'll feed you."

That made Freed laugh. So romantic and silly, the idea of feeding each other.

"We'll have a picture taken."

"Aww, a photo shoot to commemorate it? That's sweet." Freed snuggled in to listen to his voice resonating in that large chest. "But where will we go? I always liked those romantic beach shots."

"A beach, then. It'll be at a beach, right at sunset. Then, I'm going to dance with you."

"Dancing?" Freed asked sceptically.

"Not like my dances. A slow dance. A special one." Laxus looked like he was really holding back his emotions as he pictured it. "We'll have a party. All of our friends and family will be there."

"Aww, not just us?"

"We'll have time for us. This will be a special party," Laxus said, staring off as he imagined it. "Music, dancing, cake."

Freed giggled as he listened to these ideas.

"Then we'll have a vacation, a long one, somewhere romantic, exotic."

"Where?" Freed asked eagerly.

"I'm actually not sure yet. I have the rest worked out, but I'm still planning that part." He glanced down and stroked Freed's hair. "Where would _you_ like to go? Anywhere in the world."

"Italy! I went there as a kid with the family, but I really couldn't enjoy it. I've always wanted to go back, eat at romantic restaurants, drink wine at an ancient vineyard, take one of those boat rides down the canals, and see the sunset over the Mediterranean."

"Then I'll get that booked," Laxus declared. "Write down all of it, everything you want to do and see and eat. We'll do it all, and we'll stay as long as we need."

"Hmm…" Freed felt happy imagining it. A party! An anniversary party, and a vacation, just the two of them. He began to drift off to sleep, and his dream changed things. It was still a party, but he and Laxus wore tuxedos, and the car they drove off in said JUST MARRIED in the back window.

Laxus looked down at Freed, and his eyes drifted to the promise ring. Someday … someday…

He heard a soft snore and realized Freed was beginning to drool on him.

"Hey, come on. Don't fall asleep."

"Grmmm." Freed's grumble was petulant and adorable.

"Hey!" Laxus laughed. Oh God, he was way too cute when he was sleepy! "If you fall asleep, then I'll fall asleep."

"Sounds good," Freed muttered.

"I said I'd make love to you all night."

"Still need rest," he grumbled.

Laxus had to admit, he was really tired too, and Freed was up one on him for how many times he had come that night. He supposed a little longer break was okay. After all, they had eight hours until sunrise and four more times to go. He stroked his fingers through Freed's hair and rubbed the thin shoulders through the silk robe. Laxus had some robe he had stolen from a hotel in Tripoli. It was stiff and stained, but it was all he had. Sometime this week, he would have to go buy new clothes. They had talked about that while touring the apartment. Freed sounded way too happy about clothes shopping. Seriously, he could not have acted any more stereotypically gay!

Laxus had a feeling that stolen hotel robes and ratty shirts from secondhand stores were not going to fill their shared closet. Knowing Freed, he would doll Laxus up in custom suits, designer jeans, fur coats, and satin pajamas.

"Freed," he whispered, mindlessly stroking through his hair. "Thank you for taking me back."

"Of course I would," Freed muttered, his face smashed up against Laxus' chest and his mouth opened, almost drooling again.

"I'm serious. Thank you." Laxus sighed as he thought about his misgivings on the long airplane flight from Athens to New York City, and then down to Magnolia. When he wasn't vomiting from motion sickness, he had thought long and hard about how this reunion might turn out. "When I walked into that pub, half of me was expecting you to slap my face."

Freed jolted awake and looked up at Laxus with shocked and hurt eyes. "I'd _never_ do that!"

"You had every right to, and I knew that." His fingers clenched around his wineglass. "I knew when I walked out the door that day, you might not take me back. I knew the moment the P.I. emailed me, I could fuck up everything I had, and all for something greedy. I just … I…" He gulped down the last of the wine and set his glass down as his hand began to tremble. "I didn't know what else to do. I had been telling myself for years that if I ever managed to catch him, I'd fly out there in a heartbeat. Hell, if I had caught a plane the minute I got that email, I would have caught him, too. I just … couldn't, though. I couldn't go without telling you."

Freed dropped his head in guilt and whispered, "You lost your chance because of me."

"No!" Laxus shouted. "I wasn't about to take off like an asshole. I had half a mind to ignore him altogether, or to lie to the P.I. and say I was sick like some lazy-ass trying to get out of work. I didn't want to go at all! But … but I didn't know what I wanted. I wanted to go, and I wanted to stay, and I was waffling between the two. I could have called you up, told you directly, and left that night on a red-eye flight, but I _chose_ to buy the plane tickets for the next day. It was my choice, got it?" he shouted. "It wasn't because of you, and it wasn't like I lost my one and only chance. I've come close to catching him before, so don't you dare go thinking you're the one at fault."

He still saw guilt in Freed's face, and Laxus squeezed him close.

"I'm actually a bit glad he got away."

Freed looked up in shock. "You're _glad_?"

"I was outright relieved when I arrived and found out he was gone. I mean, I want to catch him, but I also hoped I could get back to you as soon as possible. The idea of being away from you for a whole year _killed_ me inside. I knew I potentially fucked up everything, but I wanted it to be less bad, and if I came home early, maybe you would still want me. Maybe you wouldn't have had enough time to change your mind, or be seduced by some rich asshole. I could have left back to Magnolia the moment the P.I. told me my dad escaped, but I felt … well, shitty! Plain shitty. Like, if I put you through all that crap just to be gone for a single day and come back, that was even worse."

"It probably would have been," Freed confessed. He had needed time to get over his emotions.

"This whole time, I've been hoping and … and … damn me, I've been _praying_ that you'd take me back despite everything. I really didn't think you would." He held Freed's face and planted a solid kiss on his forehead. "I'm _so glad_ you did!"

"Laxus…" Freed held onto him protectively, shielding him from those dark fears. "Don't say things like that. No matter what happens, I know you, and I know what you need. I know, sometimes what you need isn't me."

Laxus instantly felt the need to protest. "No! I…"

"It'd be psychotic if I was the only thing you wanted, so it's fine if you need something else once in a while. I understand it, okay? Sometimes, you need something that's just for you, something that doesn't involve me. Sometimes, _I _might need something that's just for _me_." His eyes darkened, and he added softly, "Especially in the future."

"What do you mean?"

Freed looked over at a desk with his computer and some paperwork he still had to fill out before starting his new job as junior manager of the Justine Corporation. "My father is setting me up to take over the company, probably within ten to fifteen years. It sounds like he wants to retire early." He sighed deeply. "I don't know if I'm ready for that."

"You'll kick ass," Laxus said, full of confidence.

That made Freed smile, knowing someone fully supported him. "Sometimes I'll need to do things that are just for the company. I saw it with him and my mother, and I saw how she handled it."

"Then I'll handle it," Laxus stated firmly. Hell, if a shy violet like Liberty could handle a partner who ran a large corporate firm, he sure could! "Freed, this is your family's business, so … I have an investment in it," he declared.

Freed turned his head up in confusion. "You have an investment in stocks?"

Laxus scoffed and knuckled Freed on the top of his head. "Idiot. I invested in _you_."

Freed rubbed out the pain, but then he realized what Laxus just said. "O-oh." He felt his cheeks heat up in happiness.

"It's all right if you need to do stuff. I mean, you'll be working next week."

Freed nodded passively. "Sometimes, we just need time alone."

That was the truth about relationships. In the heat of romance, it was easy to think things like 'We'll never sleep apart' and 'I'll wake up seeing this face every morning.' The truth was, real life often got between couples. Things happened, commitments came before selfish desires, and maturity forced lovers to make hard choices. Not always could they share a night of sleep together. Not always could they have a party for one another's birthdays. They might even miss an anniversary because of unavoidable duties at work.

A weak couple could let those daily necessities get in the way and supersede the love between them, being jealous of each other's time and growing angry whenever responsibility battled with romance. A strong couple realized that there were future birthdays, future anniversaries, a lifetime of love together, and they supported one another in all ways, even if it meant sitting alone at home while the other worked. They did not need to be attached by the hip just to feel strong in their love.

There was a good chance Laxus would be working night shifts at the fetish club, and Freed would need to leave early in the morning to beat rush hour traffic. They likely would not always be sleeping in that bed at the same time. They likely would not get to share breakfast together, or get weekends together, or have sex as often as they wanted.

"You'll probably be doing business trips, conferences, and shit like that," Laxus realized.

"Exactly," Freed muttered.

"Yeah, I get it."

That was also part of being in love: letting the other person live their life, not stifling them with selfish neediness. Freed saw it with his father, how Llewellyn frequently had to fly all over the globe, sometimes for many weeks. Every year, his father went to a conference in Los Angeles and was gone over Evergreen's birthday, although sometimes he took the whole family along to visit Disneyland and go to the beach. When the Justine Corporation opened a new building in India, he had been gone for three months as he personally oversaw the last stages and the opening ceremony.

The same might happen to Freed, and he knew it. It was partly why he dreaded the duty as eldest son, and also why he solemnly accepted it. Bickslow could not be expected to carry out those sorts of tasks, although when he was off the drugs he was a brilliant people-person who could manipulate others like a marionette playing with puppets. Evergreen was shrewd, but Freed wanted his sister to settle into a happy family life. He had rather liked that new boyfriend of hers, Elfman.

Laxus stretched his arms above his head until his shoulder popped. "Sometimes, it'll be something where you can't take me along, and sometimes … I … I'll need to go … alone."

"Yeah…" Freed muttered thoughtfully. "That's kind of how I imagined this whole thing, as a business trip. An extended one."

Laxus peered down in surprise. "You thought of it that way?"

"It helped me to … to not … miss you so much." He almost lost control over his emotions as those two months without Laxus around crashed down on him.

"Freed!" Instantly, his arms were around the smaller man, cradling him tenderly.

"N-no, I'm … I won't cry," he said stubbornly, and the aristocrat in him won over against the lonely wallflower who had pined away at home for weeks. "You're back. You'll always come back. That's how Mother dealt with it. You'll always return."

Laxus smiled at such confidence Freed had in him. Seriously, he felt like he did not deserve a boyfriend this perfect.

Freed shifted around on the couch, but as he put his foot down, pins and needles shot through his heel.

"Ow! Leg's asleep."

He reached down to massage the numbness. Laxus grabbed Freed's leg, twisted it to be on his lap, and began to massage from the thigh down, avoiding where the tingling hurt on his foot. Freed laid there, his leg nabbed, his thighs now spread, the robe yanked apart, exposing him. He blushed as Laxus diligently rubbed down his bare thigh, over his knobby knee, and massaged where it had gone numb in the calf muscle.

"We were sitting for too long," Laxus muttered.

Freed got over his embarrassment and laid back to enjoy the massage. "It was comfy," he said. He realized his leg muscles were really sore after three rounds of sex. "Other leg?"

Wordlessly, Laxus patted his lap, and Freed placed that leg up as well. Now his feet were on Laxus' legs, and his head was back against some throw pillows piled against the couch's armrest. He hummed in pleasure and began to drift off.

He was not really sure what he dream was about. It was sunny, the light flashed through everything, and it shined on blue and gold.

A blue bottle of Sapphire Gin and the gold liquid of Blue Label scotch.

Blue waves and golden beaches.

Blue eyes and gold hair.

He felt warm and safe, free and alive. A smile kept shining at him, large hands kept holding him, and Freed knew he was in the safest place in the world. It didn't matter if this was a beach, a lake, in Italy or at their own home; with those blue eyes and gold hair, he was safe.

"Come on, time to get up."

No, the dream was too good, and if he woke up it might all have been a dream. He wanted this to be real.

"Get up!"

The order snapped him awake, only to see the blue and gold were still there, not on a blindingly bright beach, but dressed in a stolen hotel robe in a room lit by a television. Still reluctant, he looked over at some muted commercial showing college students partying on a beach. It was not nearly as bright as his dream had been.

"Laxus, I know you said all that stuff about making love to me until sunrise, but … it's been a long day," he admitted. "I hurt from moving all those boxes. I'm seriously not up to it." He sighed and felt a tear forming in his eye. "Sorry."

What a disappointment he must be! His boyfriend was back, and he couldn't even stay awake. He wondered if Laxus would want someone wild, like the boys in that commercial, leaping around on the sandy coastline.

A warm and gentle hand stroked over his cheek just as the tear slipped, wiping it away immediately. "No, it was selfish of me. I didn't realize how tired you must be. Listen up," Laxus said sternly. "I might make unreasonable demands of you. You don't have to follow them. You're in charge in this relationship. Submissives are always in charge. But we're not just a dominant and submissive anymore. Look at me!"

Freed forced his gaze to meet those stern, blue eyes.

"We're a couple," Laxus said gently. "If you're too tired, or if you hurt, or if you have a busy day the next morning, anything at all that means I have to tone it down, tell me. That's an order. Tell me clearly. Don't pussyfoot around with me or I'll keep nudging you."

Freed nodded with a pout. "Can we cuddle for tonight?"

Laxus smiled, trying to be understanding and not disappointed. "Can I make love to you when I wake up?"

Freed giggled softly. "Absolutely!"

"Then we'll cuddle." He grabbed Freed and pulled him straight up into his lap, holding him and cradling him like a child. "We'll sleep in, snuggle into the afternoon, just stay naked in bed. We'll make love when we feel like it, but no urgency. Just when we feel like more. We'll order Chinese food and stay in, maybe watch that anime shit you like."

Freed laughed. Laxus had hated _Naruto_, but he was willing now to put up with it.

"But I'm punishing you for not getting to seven times."

Freed jolted and looked up in shock and maybe a little excitement. "P-punishing?"

"Yeah." Laxus rested his nose against Freed's. "I'm not leaving your side for the rest of the week. I'll be right here … until I _annoy_ you," he snarled playfully.

Both laughed and nuzzled each other. Laxus wrapped his arms around Freed and caressed his fingers through his hair.

"I just don't … I don't want this to be a dream, Freed!" he said in quiet anguish.

"No, it's not." He cuddled down until he could listen to Laxus' heart. "Definitely, it's not."

"Sometimes, I wonder if the whole thing is one big, goddamn dream," Laxus confessed. "I fall asleep every night and wonder, 'Is today the day I'm going to wake up?' and within ten minutes I'll forget the dream, forget you and how happy I am to be like this. That scares the shit out of me. I don't want this to be a dream, but it's too good! You're just incredible, and I'm scared…" He gulped hard as his grip around Freed tightened. "…scared that it's too good to be true. And that sounds _shitty as hell_!" He laughed at his sappiness. "But, it's true," he said, totally serious.

"I feel the same way," Freed admitted, tracing his fingers over part of the tattoo that showed through the split in the old robe. "Sometimes, when you were gone, I would wake up and wonder if you never existed. Maybe I made it all up in my head. Maybe college became too stressful and I just cracked, and all of that was one big sleep-deprived hallucination. I would go by the South Pole Club and wonder if you were in there. Maybe you never left. Maybe you never existed in the first place, and the people in there wouldn't even know of a dancer named Thor. Maybe it was just me wanting it so much, wanting someone just like you, fantasizing about it so strongly, I made the whole thing up."

"Wait, you went to the club?" Laxus asked sharply.

"I never went inside. Bob saw me one night, just standing out there. I had walked, so I was just standing in the parking lot. He recognized me and called out to me, saying to come by the next day. Here, I'll show you. Hold on." Freed scrambled off of Laxus' lap and found his foot was still tingling, but not badly.

"Hey, don't get up," Laxus whined. It felt cold without Freed sitting on top of him.

"I just need to get my phone." Freed padded off to the bedroom, and his bare feet squeaked over the wooden floor.

Laxus collapsed backward to stare at the ceiling, but sleepiness was winning over him. He decided to close his eyes for just a moment.

When Freed returned, Laxus was passed out on the couch, face up, mouth open, snoring loudly. It was too precious! He secretively snapped a picture, emailed it to himself, and instantly deleted it off of his phone before Laxus could see that he had done that. Then he walked up close, and Laxus jolted awake with a choking gargle.

"Aww, look who's getting all sleepy!" teased Freed. "And here you were bugging _me_ about that."

Laxus wiped the corner of his mouth. Dammit, he really fell asleep! "This couch is comfortable," he grumbled.

Freed chuckled at his surly tone amidst sleepy rumbles. "Anyway, Bob gave me some things. I went after closing, I didn't go in when there were people around," he quickly assured Laxus before he had a chance to question. "He gave me these."

He pulled up the photo album on his phone and showed a subfolder to Laxus while blushing, wondering what his lover might think. Laxus looked at the photos and flipped through a few. They were all of him, most of them shirtless and in provocative poses.

"Oh … God!" he groaned, recognizing them instantly. "I remember that photo shoot. Damn that Jellal!" he sneered.

"They're good!" chuckled Freed. "This is what I used when I was … um, lonely. I didn't watch porn, and I didn't go to strip clubs, or anything like that. I would look at these, and this video."

He pulled up the video, and the music began to play.

"Heh! My dance." It was weird for Laxus to see himself dancing from the audience's perspective. "So you … you were getting off to _me_ the whole time I was gone?"

Freed smiled up to him and nodded. "Only you."

Laxus gazed down at him, then at the pictures, utterly stunned. "Damn. Now I feel like an asshole for renting all that Greek porn."

Freed giggled and curled up against Laxus. "Maybe I need to take pictures of myself," he teased.

Laxus jolted and looked down with huge eyes. He blurted out breathlessly, "Oh my God, let's do that."

Freed flinched. "Wh-what?" He had been joking!

"I'm totally serious. Now I want pictures of you."

Freed let out a wordless protest. How could he possibly want pictures of a skinny thing like him?

Laxus scraped his nails softly up Freed's thigh. "I want them to be as sexy as possible." He began to push the robe apart, exposing the pale leg. Freed jolted and yanked the robe back together, so Laxus softly scratched down his slender neck instead. "I want pictures of you crawling around on the bed, naked…"

His hands were enticing Freed, after he had said he was too tired.

"And dressed up," Laxus whispered, nipping Freed's ear. "With your collar on!" His hand stroked Freed's throat. Suddenly, his fingers gave that thin neck a soft squeeze, just enough to force him into remembering the feel of that collar. He leaned in close and whispered right into Freed's ear. "I've got that leash."

Freed could not help it. An erotic gasp shivered in his lungs. If it was just dressing up … and his collar … his new leash! Oh, he wanted that leash. Maybe he could do this much. It was just posing for Laxus, giving him pictures, photos no one else in the world would see, only himself and Laxus, photos Laxus could use to masturbate, pictures that would _please_ his master…

"Yes!" the blond whispered, licking his lips. "I want pictures of your cock. I love this cock, and I wanna photograph it like a fucking model of male perfection. And your ass. Damn, your ass is sexy as hell. I love to look at it before _piercing_ in there."

Freed tensed up, almost as if he could feel that thick cock thrusting up into him.

Laxus' hand slowly shifted the robe aside, and his lips kissed along Freed's collarbone, right along a nerve he knew drove the young swordsman crazy. "Mmh, maybe really dress you up, take a few pictures with your cock ring on … and a plug shoved up your ass."

Freed was breathless. Laxus' voice was pure sex, and it was tingling him everywhere.

"I'm gonna take so many pictures. You said you did modeling for your fencing team. Now, you'll be _my _sexy model. I may even take some video." Laxus smirked at the aghast face Freed made. "Would you like that?" he asked quietly, his voice ripe with sensuality. "A video of yourself, maybe showing your face as I spank your ass red. Maybe a homemade porn video of you riding on top of me. Oooh yeah! I could smack off to that anytime!"

Freed groaned with a deep ache, and he knew he was aroused just from that low, rumbling voice.

"We're gonna commemorate tonight." Laxus' fingers scratched up Freed's thigh, and the green-haired man shivered at the tingling touch. "My sweet slave is going to be a porn star!"

"I … I'm not … s-sexy."

Laxus roared out, "What the fuck are you talking about?" He grabbed Freed's jaw with one hand and forced his face up. "Don't you ever say those words again or I will beat your ass so hard you'll feel it after you're dead!"

"But I'm not—"

Roughly, Laxus grabbed Freed, flipped him over his knee, yanked his robe up, and gave him a single hard smack to his bare ass. Freed yelped, but instantly he was yanked up by the hair and thrust back down onto the couch cushions with his butt cheek smarting from the hit.

"Don't you dare think that I would fall for anyone less than perfect. You—are—sexy! Now, say it."

Say it? He didn't even feel that way.

Laxus flicked him on the forehead and bellowed, "Say it!"

Freed cringed down, rubbed out the sting to his brow, and began to blush. "I'm … um … s-sexy?"

Laxus flicked him again.

"Ow!"

"Louder!"

"I'm … sexy."

Again, Laxus gave him a flick, irritating Freed this time. "Like you fucking mean it!"

He shouted back in anger from the childish punishment that seemed to only mock him. "I'm sexy, dammit!" Instantly, Freed's lungs hitched. He felt mortified that he would even say something like that.

"That's right," Laxus smiled smugly. "You're my sexy bitch. I'm going to take pictures to prove it to you. I'll show you how sexy you are and why you drive me so utterly insane."

Freed put his hand to his mouth and looked away with a red face.

"What?" Laxus grumbled.

"That … was embarrassing."

"Of course it was," Laxus smirked. He leaned over and kissed where his flicks left a faint pink mark on Freed's forehead. "The next time you say you're not sexy, I will spank you for lying, and then I will drag you out to the nearest karaoke bar and make you sing _I'm Sexy and I Know It_. In a speedo!"

"Laxus!" Freed cried out in horror.

"Don't think for one second that I'm joking."

That was the worst part. Freed knew that Laxus was more than eager to humiliate him in public. He really would make him do it, speedo and all.

The blond chuckled slyly. "Bitch. Now you've got me turned on again."

"I didn't do anything," Freed hissed, breathing hard.

"Yes you did. You're provoking me with your moans and your sexy body. You're teasing me with your words. You're the one seducing me, showing off this." His hand reached down and palmed Freed's arousal through the robe. A shuddering cry ripped out of that ivory throat. "You've got sexy pictures of me. I'm jealous! I want some of you. That way when you're away at work, being a busy little office bee buzzing around your daddy's company, I'm gonna be bored out of my fucking skull, but I'll have those sexy pictures of you. I'll flip through them, stroking myself as I look at you. Maybe I'll call you up at work on your lunch break and tell you how I'm touching myself."

He laughed at how red Freed's face was getting as he imagined getting sex calls at work. Oh yes, that was definitely something he had to do! Laxus filed that threat away in the MUST DO IT category of his mind.

"Come on."

Freed squeaked when he looked up, confused as he battled humiliation and arousal.

Laxus stood and held out an inviting hand. Gently, he urged, "Come on. I want you to model for me. I want to take pictures of you that no one else will ever see, pictures that are mine alone—" He stroked down Freed's face and gazed into those wide eyes. "—pictures of how erotic you are. I don't want to watch cheap porn ever again. I want to use you! I wanna stroke myself to naked pictures of you. I want video of you moaning like the bitch you are! Your voice turns me on, and just listening to you whimpering in pleasure makes me wanna come. So obey me and make these pictures and video so damn sexy, I can whack off to them whenever you're not home." He caressed Freed's cheek. "Tonight, you're _my_ stripper. Give me a good show."

Freed gulped down his protests. His master had a job for him, and he desperately wanted to obey Laxus. He took the large hand and bowed his head. "If it pleases you, master."

"Heh!" Laxus yanked him to his feet and tilted Freed's head up. He smiled seductively down at his angelic slave. "Oh, it will!"

**Next Chapter: Bright Flashes of Lightning**

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_**Audio**: chirb = dot= it/735w9r_

_I've had people frustrated with the fact that FFnet doesn't allow links, so I have to write it out weird. I will also be posting links to these audios on my Facebook fanpage. Just google "Rhov Anion's Minions" or find a link to that page on my profile. For those who like these audios, I'm glad you let me know. I didn't think anyone was listening to them. (I find them fun but just a little embarrassing, honestly.)_


	29. Bright Flashes of Lightning

_A/N: Here's the audio for people who like to listen as they read along __… or listen to it later for some private sexy time. (Come on, I know some of you do!)  
chirb =dot= it/_9dmaK7

* * *

Chapter 29

**Bright Flashes of Lightning  
**

Freed felt like he was in another world. This was a world of flashes and thundering murmurs.

_Flash! _"Look at me." _Flash! _"Drop your head down, only look up with your eyes." _Flash! _"Stay on your knees, but put your head on the pillow." _Flash!_

He did not have to think or worry about anything. He just had to obey. He did not move unless ordered, and those orders were ripe with sensuality.

"Lift your body up, but stay on your knees. Yes." _Flash!_ "Yes, like that." _Flash! _"Now touch yourself. Your chest, too. Yes." _Flash! Flash! _"Stroke it while pinching your tit, bitch." _Flash! _"Fuck yes, that's it. Just like that." _Flash! _"Look at the camera." _Flash!_

The collar reminded him that he was a bitch now. He was an obedient pet, and this … this was just learning a new trick.

"Hey, I said look at me!"

With that shout came a tug. Laxus had put the leash on, and Freed groaned whenever he used it. He pulled the leash to yank the collar, forcing his head to turn up.

"Look at the camera. Look at it like you're making love to it. Fuck this camera, Freed. Fuck it like a whore!"

He shivered. These were pictures Laxus would use. These were images Laxus wanted to see. These poses would please his master even when he could not be around. He had to make them as erotic as possible. It was utter humiliation, though! Touching himself, posing himself, staring at that black eye. This was no cellphone camera. Laxus had pulled out Freed's good camera. He was taking so many pictures, the flashes began to blind him.

"Not enough. More."

Laxus kept saying that. The first time he said it, he nearly ripped Freed's robe off of him. The slow and bashful strip show was over, and it was on to nudes. Then he said it again, and the collar went on, with the leash being attached soon after. Then he had said those three words again, and he put on Freed's cock ring. Every time he said "not enough, more," Freed was taken to a new plateau of sensuality. He shivered, wondering what would be next.

Laxus marched over to a box where Freed had packed away all of their sex toys. Most of them looked like they had not been touched in weeks. Realizing his little slave had gone without punishment for that long made Laxus want to remind him of that sweet pain.

He set the camera down, pulled out a rattling pair of handcuffs, marched back to the bed, and yanked Freed's arms back, tugging him up and backwards a bit until he bowed into Laxus' chest.

"You're sexy when I make you touch yourself, but sometimes I don't like to think that you're capable of doing that much. I like to think you can't do a damn thing without me." One hand held the wrists together while another hand roamed Freed's thin chest. "Trapped! Helpless!" He stroked over a nipple, and Freed could do nothing. He could not pull away or grab his cock that leaped at the touch. He truly was helpless. Laxus sneered a smile as he felt the shiver through his lover. "That's sexy, too."

He put on the handcuffs, clamping them down tight. Freed hissed as the metal bit into his tender wrists. Then, before he could get used to it, he was practically thrown down. He could not stop himself from falling, and that feeling of being defenseless made his pulse spike. Instead of falling and hurting himself, his face landed on pillows. His hair was everywhere, and he could not flip it out of his mouth or from under his shoulder. Strands pulled, but he was trapped.

"Helpless," Laxus growled, and although Freed's face was smothered in downy softness, he heard the clicks of the camera. "All mine. Waiting for me to pleasure you."

Then, much to his shock, he felt something nudging at his ass. He tried to look back, but his hair was so tangled, it trapped him. He felt wet slickness of lube on something smooth, and slowly something pressed, entered, and widened him. He began to shout into the pillow. His ass was still sore from the roughness in the car. This time, the sex toy really did hurt, but not to the point where he wanted it to stop. He _needed_ this. As if he had not realized it all night until now, he needed this emptiness filled. Just like in the car, when Laxus had lost control and thrust into him right there, in public, inside his brand new Corvette, this emptiness _had_ to be filled. Pain no longer mattered. Only feeling this!

"Your cock is dripping. Oh fuck, I need a picture of this."

The plug was not even all the way in, but Freed heard those _click_ noises again. He wondered how Laxus had this much self-control. If it was him, he probably would have burst untouched. At the moment, the only thing keeping Freed from coming apart was the cock ring and the edge of pain burning in his ass.

"This goddamn sexy cock," Laxus said softly, almost reverently. He stroked between Freed's thighs, admiring how that cock with its own miniature collar hung heavily with a clear drip shining on the tip. Oh, the things he wanted to do to that cock! But not yet. Not now. "How about a closeup of your ass being opened?" He began to take pictures again, macro-closeups of that ass with a silicone toy stretching the rim. He played around with widths, pulling the plug a little out to shrink the stretching hole, then pressing it in more, but not all the way, until the skin became shiny from stretched tautness.

Freed had tears in his eyes. He wanted that plug inside of him. He desperately needed it. This teasing was more torment than any pain.

"Laxus!" he finally yelled.

There was a low laugh. "I was wondering when you'd start to break. Beg for it!"

"Please!" He tried to pull at his hands but was trapped. He needed to be touched. He needed something, anything! His ass, his cock, his chest, it didn't matter where. All he could do was lean back into Laxus, hoping for a little more.

"Now this is sexy, you thrusting up against my butt plug. Shit, if this was my cock, I'd lose it right now. I'd blow my load, fill you up inside, pour my cum into you, pour it in until it drips back out."

Those words were stabbing Freed. "Please!" he sobbed. "Please…" All dignity was surrendered. He was a sexual mess, and he knew it. He said he could not come a fourth time, and yet here he was, trembling with the need.

"I'll take care of it."

Yes! Laxus would care for him. Laxus would give him everything. All the happiness money could not buy, he had right here with Laxus' arm wrapped around him and fingers planted on his ass as that plug was slowly pressed in more, deeper, stretching him until Freed thought he would split apart.

"Arrrrrgh!"

It hurt. It felt wonderful. It burned. It tingled his soul. Then, as he shrank around the divot and could finally relax, filled and aching, Freed knew he was Laxus' bitch. He would do anything to give pleasure back to this man.

The fullness, the pleasure that flowed in after the pain, and the powerful feelings deep in his heart boiled and coiled and began to surge.

"La- … No!" He shook his head and struggled to fight it. "Laxus, I … I'm about to…"

"Shhh!" he hushed, stroking back Freed's forehead. "It's fine if you do."

Freed shouted, but there was no way to stop it now. He came, weak but enough for a little fluid to drip out of his cock. It was intense but brief, pleasure surging just to sink like a lake falling back into calmness. He began to shrink, but then suddenly, before he could recover, lips were on his mouth.

"My God, I want you," came a soft snarl, and then a tongue gagged him with need.

Probably, this was a bad idea. He was already torn. However, he didn't care. He wanted this … so much!

"You … you're incredible," Laxus whispered in awe. He sneered to force himself away from the intense emotions sizzling inside him. If he gave in, he would end this scene right now, right like this, and Freed would be denied the full pleasure Laxus had hoped to give him. He had to stay in control, although seeing Freed bound up, tossed around, dripping cum onto his expensive bedsheets, with his ass wide open and still twitching … it was almost too much!

Laxus carefully helped him up, being cautious of that long, luxurious, green hair. He did not want a single strand of that beautiful hair to be hurt. Flesh healed from bruises, but a single hair could take years to grow back to the length Freed had it. He caressed the hair off of Freed's face and out of his mouth. He smoothed it down as best as he could with his clumsy fingers, and then he kept touching, savoring the softness of this body, the sweat glistening on his pale skin, the corded muscles in those arms, small but powerful.

His eyes softened as he heard Freed panting through the pain in his ass, especially now that he was forced to be on his knees on the bed mattress again. Freed would endure so much for him. This sacrifice for the sake of love was a deep honor to Laxus. He wished he knew the words to explain how this made him feel.

Turquoise eyes turned up to him, wet and happy, filled with indescribable love. Laxus gasped softly. He had told Freed earlier about needing to reach his soul. Laxus was not even sure what he had meant with all that nonsense. He felt it, but he could not articulate it.

Right now, as Freed looked up at him, Laxus saw that soul!

Slowly, in a trance, he picked up the camera, aimed the lens, and took a picture. Dear God, he hoped he captured it! He set the camera back down, never breaking eye contact.

"I love you," he whispered with a tremble to his voice. When Freed showed this pure side to himself, it truly was like speaking to some divine creature. It was almost scary, confessing his love directly to such a beautiful soul.

Freed could not reach up with his bound hands, so he lifted his head and rubbed his cheek against Laxus' chest, up his neck and face, and caressed up to his earlobe, giving a small kiss. "I love you, too," he whispered warmly right into Laxus' ear.

Laxus suddenly grabbed Freed's face with both hands. He wanted to hold onto this soul, possess it, not let it slip back away into flesh and sweatiness. He wanted to say so much to him like this, but the words froze up. He only managed to stutter and feel flustered.

"I know," Freed smiled.

Laxus swore, he probably really did know everything, every thought and desire and dream of the future. Freed probably knew it all. Or at least, his soul did.

Laxus saw when the moment passed. He wondered if Freed was even consciously aware of when he did that. Probably not. Those eyes went from holy to devious, twinkling with playfulness, and Freed bit his lip coyly. It was the same old Freed as always, but a man, not a soul.

"Pick that camera back up." He smiled with smug authority to his words. "I want to make love to it!"

It took Laxus a moment to move. When he finally unfroze, he smiled and pulled back. "Bitch," he muttered, just because he had no clue what else he could say.

After that, Freed was incredible. He still blushed, he still looked ashamed at some of the poses, but those eyes were starving. Laxus knew by the way his erection was smashing against his boxers, when he flipped through these photos he would definitely enjoy them.

"Can I pick a pose?"

Laxus almost dropped the camera. Freed really was an unpredictable little submissive. "Of course," he said, dying to know what he wanted to do.

"Stand up with the camera."

Laxus had been on the bed to get good angles, but he stood, robe discarded, only his boxers on. He snapped candid pictures as Freed struggled to roll around and get off the bed while still handcuffed.

"Can … can you cuff me up front?"

Laxus hit a quick-release button on the cuffs—he knew he did not need to actually lock them since Freed never tried to escape—and reattached them in front. Then Freed stood, his hands covered his privates with the chains dangling, and his face went bright red.

"L-like … this."

Laxus saw through the viewfinder what Freed must have imagined in his head. Sometimes, hiding himself was far more provocative than showing it all off. He looked embarrassed, submissive, shy, and yet starving. Laxus began to snap pictures as Freed stood awkwardly, twisting away as if too bashful to show off. Laxus' breathing got faster as he saw the timidity. The sadist in him loved the idea of humiliating his slave.

"Now…"

Freed walked up to him. Laxus could hardly help but take a picture up close of that face—that goddamn fuckable face, with pupils blown wide with lust and lips swollen and wet.

Suddenly, Freed dropped to his knees right in front of Laxus. His handcuffed wrists raised up, and he stroked the bulge pressing against the boxers.

"Photograph me," he whispered.

Laxus swore those two words in another language must mean _Fuck me._

He kept mindlessly taking pictures straight down as Freed rubbed and licked through the fabric.

If this was Thor, the god of thunder, then Freed knew he was pleasuring his god. The flashes that blinded him like an electrical storm showed him how much this pleased his divine lover. However, he knew he could do better. He wanted to give Laxus something special, something he would never forget.

Laxus' breath hitched as those bound hands tugged the boxers down, and suddenly it was his own cock in the viewfinder. His cock, and Freed's mouth.

"You wanted to make a homemade porn video, right?" Freed smiled, licking around the flared head. "Videotape _this_."

"Oh fuck," Laxus gasped weakly.

He struggled to change the setting on the camera to video mode. Freed was not waiting for him. He slid his lips down the veined shaft, and the sucking yanked Laxus away from the task at hand.

Video setting! Video? Where the fucking hell was the video setting?

Finally he got it, and just as he hit start, Freed slammed down hard, all the way to the back of his throat, and Laxus cried out. The camera almost slipped out of his hands. He steadied it and focused down onto Freed. Through the tiny screen, Laxus saw Freed devouring his dick. Those wide, turquoise eyes kept glancing up, straight at the camera, as he slurped and bobbed up and down.

"Freed, you're…" No word worked. Laxus could only groan and strain to keep the camera on that face.

Freed pulled off and rubbed the erection with his chained hands, letting them rattle. "You taste incredible," he said softly. "I want to suck this cock … _every day!_"

Laxus almost lost it. When Freed talked dirty, it was like he was destroying this angel, yanking him into Perdition. He was the pagan god tarnishing a holy Angel of the Lord.

"Laxus," he groaned wantonly, stroking the cock with his cheek and letting his tongue hang out to lick it. "Tell me what to do."

_Shit! Shit, shit, shit!_

Sinful eyes gazed up. "Tell me, master."

Laxus sneered and gulped hard. This was going to be the video he used for masturbating. What did he like best?

"Let me come on your face, bitch."

Freed looked like he melted a little. He shivered, the camera definitely picked that up, and he began to suck on Laxus again, faster now, grunting when the cockhead slammed into the back of his throat.

Laxus held the camera as still as possible with one hand while the other went down, running through the long hair, pulling and guiding his head. He would have fucked that mouth hard, except that would jolt the camera, so he let Freed do the work while those cuffed hands stroked Laxus' balls, giving small tugs, pulling him closer … closer…

"Fuck, Freed!"

The camera jolted, but Laxus steadied it. Holding it still as his whole body coiled into one tiny ball of tension was almost impossible.

"Ah … arrrgh!"

Right at that moment, what the porn industry calls _The Money Shot_, Freed pulled back. He reached up, realizing the camera was shaking, and steadied it himself. Laxus did not see him do that. His eyes were squeezed tight.

A stream of pale liquid shot onto Freed's face. He closed his eyes as some of it hit his eyelid, then opened his mouth to let it drip within.

Another shot landed right across his cheek and into his parted lips.

Just a dribble after that, and Freed let it smear over his chin, oozing thick and white onto his lower lip. He gazed up at the camera again, imagining what Laxus will be seeing, imagining all the times Laxus would come into a tissue in the future while watching this, and he smiled seductively, knowing it would be his face that makes Laxus do this.

Laxus opened his eyes, momentarily angry that he probably screwed up the best part of the video, until he saw Freed holding the camera, looking up into it, sexy as _fuck_ with Laxus' cum splattered all over his flushed face.

"Master," he mewled. "Master, I really need it now."

Oh … fuck.

_Oh fuck!_

Laxus stopped the video and saved it before he messed it up. He wiped Freed's face clean with his own ratty robe. The stolen thing was good for something at least. Then he yanked Freed up, threw him onto the bed until his thin body bounced, and he pounced on top. Laxus grabbed the chained hands and slammed them to the headboard.

"You said you were too tired," he snarled, kicking the lowered boxers off.

"I was, but … but you—"

"_I_ did something?" he bellowed. "You're the one at fault. You're too damn sexy for your own good. And … it's been too long."

He reached down to the butt plug and twisted it to turn on the vibrations. Freed gasped, and instantly there was a flash. He looked up; Laxus still had the camera.

"It's been way the hell too long," Laxus said, palming the plug in.

It kept rubbing and buzzing against Freed's prostate. He was losing control, losing his mind. He cried at the pleasure building inside, and there were more flashes.

This was worse! Rather than just posing in sexy ways, he was being photographed in the midst of experiencing pleasure. That camera was another set of eyes, watching him, voyeuristically observing him, and recording these faces he was making. Freed became far more conscious of his expressions. He wanted to make it sexy like the porn pictures he had seen late at night in the dorm room, yet when Laxus slammed the plug in again and massaged it around with his palm while his fingers caressed Freed's sack, the idea of making the perfect porn face was gone. His mouth opened wide, howling in pleasure, and behind close eyelids he saw more flashes.

"I've been needing this," Laxus growled, not stopping with the camera, sometimes capturing Freed's face, sometimes his erection, and sometimes taking a picture of the plug in his ass. "Needing you!" He palmed the plug in again and snapped a shot of Freed as his body arched up. "I need to please you and make you scream!"

He turned the vibrations up higher and grabbed Freed's erection. He pumped him steadily, wanting to pull out another orgasm from him.

"L-Lax- … La- … I…"

"I can tell you're close," Laxus whispered deeply. "I know your body now. I can feel it. I can _smell_ it. You're so close, aren't you?"

"Mm-hmm," he whimpered, biting his lip to hold back the howls of pleasure.

Laxus breathed right into his ear. "Do it! For me."

For him! For his master. Master wanted him to accept this bestowed pleasure to its fullest. Master was giving him permission. Master wanted it.

Freed's head flew back, and his spine arched in a glorious curve. Laxus felt those sharp hips giving the final thrusts directly into his hand. He snapped picture after picture, capturing the whole thing, the spurts, the face lost in pleasure, Freed's body splattered white, the mess on his own large hand holding the swollen cock, the look of surprise as the rush faded…

_More pictures! More!_

… how the mess dripped down across the toned stomach, Freed's body gradually sinking, his half-opened eyes, so sleepy and seductive, and then a smile, so sweet and happy, knowing confidently that he gave a good show.

"Damn, you're incredible," Laxus whispered in awe. He set the camera aside and smiled down at Freed while petting his head. "I think we captured some great pictures."

Tired eyes streaked with tears gazed up, and a faint smile struggled to his lips. Then Freed sank back, ready for sleep.

Laxus turned the vibrator off and used the old robe again to wipe up the mess. Being as gentle as possible now, he pulled the butt plug out and set it on top of the robe that was now covered in the essence of both men. He removed the cock ring and set it aside. As he gazed down at Freed, a thought came into his mind: they were making love _in their own bed_. Theirs! A bed they would share from now on. Although, these bedsheets were utterly ruined!

"Freed, I know you're tired but … can you go one more?"

With a grunt of weariness, Freed looked up in silent protest. One more? Seriously? No way!

Laxus looked apologetic. "I am hard as a rock again."

Freed glanced down. Although he had just had an orgasm a few minutes ago, Laxus was already erect.

"If it's too much—"

"Shut up—" Freed cut in, and he spread his thighs. "—and take me."

So many protests raged in Laxus' mind about this. Freed had torn earlier. He now had five orgasms that night. There was probably no way he could go a sixth. This would just be him fucking Freed for the sake of his own pleasure. Laxus was so used to delivering pain and pleasure, not _taking_ it.

"Laxus," came a gentle voice, and the blond looked down with worry. Freed's smile was placid and understanding. "I want this night to end with your cum inside me. Please."

His face tensed, but he nodded. So long as he had permission, it was okay, even this, just using Freed's worn out body for his own pleasure. He grabbed the bottle of lube and was generous with it, hoping that a little extra would make this easier, quicker, just enough to finish him off without hurting Freed too horribly.

That tired face was still smiling, wanting him, although Laxus was pretty sure Freed was way past his limit.

With one hand, he wrapped Freed's legs over his shoulders, and with the other he gripped himself, nudging at the entrance. Slowly, carefully, he pressed in, sinking inside easily. Freed was loose, and unlike the tight, almost painful forcefulness in the car earlier that night, this time he entered his lover smoothly, tenderly, gliding inside. Welcoming arms wrapped around his neck, and Freed pulled him down into a kiss.

"Take me," Freed whispered against his lips.

Laxus pulled back a little, and he saw it again. The body was exhausted, defeated, far past worn out, and here was the soul, that shining brightness that made him swear Freed was an angel in disguise. This was a chance to not only _tell_ this soul how much he loved him, but to _show_ it, to love it, to make love to it, to pour his own soul into Freed's.

Laxus pulled back and slowly burrowed himself back inside. Although drained, Freed arched and moaned at the feeling of being full, the emptiness in his life filled up with love, with passion, with _Laxus_. Another thrust, and he felt like Laxus was already pouring in something, not liquid cum, but something else, something spiritual. It filled him in a way fleshly bodies never could.

"I love you so much," Laxus whispered, setting up a slow and easy motion, in and out, tensing and releasing, recoil and flex. Freed was limp in his arms, panting and moaning, utterly surrendering body and soul to pleasure. "Missed you so much!" he said, aching as all those weeks of loneliness flowed out, being filled up with Freed's love.

Laxus suddenly grabbed Freed into his arms and sat up. He placed Freed on his lap, lifting him, pressing him back down, so Freed did not have to do anything. He hugged him tight as he thrust inside.

Then suddenly Laxus looked ahead. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his feet down on the floor, with Freed as limp as a rag doll in his arms. Straight ahead was the closet, with mirrors as the sliding doors. In those full-length mirrors, Laxus could watch himself, see the sweat on his skin, the flush in his face, and his shaft piercing into Freed's body. Laxus gasped when he saw it, and quickly he looked away. It was almost too much, seeing himself doing this. Curious though, he peeked again. His grip on Freed must have changed, and he stroked somewhere good inside. Right then, Freed arched back, shuddering out a moan, and Laxus saw it all in the mirror.

"Oh fuck," he gasped.

He pulled out, lifting Freed off his lap, turned around, and placed the smaller man on the bed on his hands and knees, facing away from the mirror and those erotic images. He entered from behind and began to thrust with more urgency.

Now he was getting dizzy, exhaustion taking its toll, yet he was drunk on lust. He rammed into that ass, and Freed strained, quivering as his limbs tried to hold himself up. His throat was parched, he was quiet as the feeling tingling on the edge of sleepiness, like this was a dream and he was already unconscious. He was so exhausted, Freed almost wished it would be over soon. It felt so good, but he could not even moan, he was so worn out.

Suddenly, Laxus bent over with a growl and bit sharply into Freed's shoulder. It was a jump-start. The tiredness burned away, and his body sparked alive, electrocuted into motion once more.

"Sorry. Oh shit, I bit hard. You're bleeding a little. I'm just … fuck, so close. I need to hear you, though. Moan for me, Freed. For fuck's sake, _moan!_"

A rending cry filled the room, and Laxus felt the body under him coming back to life. Freed began to thrust his hips back into him, letting Laxus pound in even deeper. His hands clutched at the bedsheets. He was reanimated and moaning loudly.

"Mmmm, do you maybe like when I make you bleed? Is that something you like?"

"I … I don't…"

Laxus leaned over and licked the blood beading on the small pierce. "It's a nice taste. But you know what the problem is? A slutty little masochist like you wants the pain so you won't come as fast. The more I hurt you, the longer you last. That's sinfully delicious when I'm edging you all night, but that's not today. Today, I'm aiming to make you come seven times."

Freed gasped in shock. This again? Seven! Even at the beginning of the night, he was sure he could never make it to seven. Now… "No, we agreed—"

"Seven!" he sneered. Then Laxus smirked arrogantly. "We only have two more to go."

Freed shook his head as his thighs quivered. "I … can't. I can't." Coming again was a joke.

"You can!" Laxus said sternly. "But being rough isn't the answer with you." Laxus curled around Freed's trembling body and reached around the narrow ribs to grasp his erection. As he figured, Freed was hard again. This whole time, he had been limp and simply accepting Laxus' love. Now he was needy again, just how Laxus liked him. "No, you come strongest when I'm _gentle_." He gave a slow stroke while kissing up Freed's spine, to the neck, and leaned over, smothering his body, so he could nip the back of Freed's neck.

"Aaaaahn!" he whined, arching at the bite.

"Yes, this is what you like," Laxus purred. He licked behind Freed's ear. "Gentle. You're a raging masochist, but deep down you're a romantic. You like when I fuck you hard, but you go wild when I make love to you. Fine! I can do both. I can do whatever you want. Anything you want!" He nuzzled into Freed's long hair. "I'll do whatever it is you want, Freed. Whatever will bring you the most pleasure."

Freed figured he must have died. Sometime earlier today, he died. Maybe it was when lifting boxes. He must have had a heart attack, he was dead, and this was his heaven, eternity with Laxus, pain and pleasure never-ending. Because nothing—nothing at all—was this perfect. There was no humanly possible way to feel this happy.

Laxus heard a cry like a soul being reborn, the cock in his hand throbbed, and under Freed's body he could see the weak drips, everything used up, but in his ass … oh yes, Freed's ass clenched in the dry orgasm. Laxus felt those clenches on his cock, and Freed moaned, no longer angelic, but demonic, a creature of pure lust now.

"Oh shit. Freed, you … oh … oh _shit!_"

Laxus lost control again. He thrust fast, hard, and all noises went silent. He thought he heard a cry of pain under him, but he was already coming, a rush of need, his soul gushing into Freed's body, filling this fallen angel, this perfect creature he had corrupted, filling him and being utterly and fully complete in this single moment. He clutched Freed to him, still giving small thrusts with each spurt, yet fearing his angel would fly away.

"Freed."

The name was a prayer and a plea. _'Don't leave me. Don't vanish. Don't let this be a dream.'_

Tears flowed down, and Laxus did not even try to stop them. He cried for the loneliness he had suffered through. He cried for the joy of Freed taking him back. He cried for getting all of his wishes, for finding a man who was perfect for him, for finding love in just the right messed up way he needed it. Who else would do this? Who else was willing to let him have his kinks, but also show him how to give tenderness?

Laxus was not really religious, but he sobbed as he prayed in thanks to whatever sort of Cupid was out there that matched him with this green-haired angel.

Freed felt ready to pass out. Suddenly, that fullness slipped out, and cum dripped down between his thighs. Still, he felt like he could not move on his own. He had no power, no energy, drained of everything. With carefulness, he was turned around, and arms were right there to guide him to the mattress. Blue eyes looked at him in worship, and reverently his body was lowered to the pillows.

He heard a rattle of chains, the handcuffs came off, and Freed immediately wrapped his arms around Laxus, clinging to him to assure him that he would not leave or turn into wisps of grace, and he was no figment of a wet dream. He was here, this was real, and they were together now.

"Another rest?"

Freed wished he could keep going, but this wasn't a dream or even Heaven. It was real, and he was just a mortal who needed recovery time.

Laxus laid beside him. Sometimes he just lightly caressed Freed's skin or stroked his fingers through his hair; then he would scratch his chest or yank his hair to pull his head up for a lusty kiss. However, when he reached down, Freed flinched and shook his head. He was completely at his limit, utterly dried up.

"Save the last one for in the morning," he muttered. Freed looked up with disappointment. "I honestly can't again. I'm sorry."

"The hell you talkin' about, being sorry." Laxus kissed him and rested their foreheads together. "You were beyond incredible tonight. Six times! Shit … we've never done it this much. New record," he teased. "I am fucking _exhausted_. Six … shit. You know, in Jewish tradition, six is the number of sin, and seven is perfection. I'll leave you in sin tonight." Then he gave Freed a kiss on the brow. "I'll restore you to perfection in the morning. My little angel," he sighed, resting his forehead on Freed's chest to listen to his heart.

"My thunder god," he replied, smiling weakly as he stroked the spiky blond hair. Being left in sin … it sounded good.

After a moment of rest, Laxus removed the leash and collar, stood, and helped Freed up. He needed to rub out his legs before he could walk, but he managed to limp away to the bathroom on his own. Laxus watched him, that sore limp in his step, and he felt smug. _He_ was the one who left his green angel weak and mortal. And he could rise him up from Perdition again.

Tomorrow. In the morning. Right now, Laxus was so exhausted, he could barely move.

While Freed was in the bathroom to shower off cum, lube, and sweat, Laxus hurriedly changed the sheets and washed the sex toys. He cleaned himself up with just a wet washcloth and a bit of disinfectant. Then he turned on a lamp by the bed and turned off the main light. Freed dragged his feet back, limping and pale from exhaustion. Laxus thought he looked like a perfect example of a fallen angel.

Freed laid down in bed and groaned. He was so sore, but it was worth it. Laxus turned off the lamp, wrapped his arms around the thin body, and spooned into him.

"You were amazing tonight," Laxus whispered to him. "Hey, I was thinking something. Come morning, our seventh time, that _perfect_ time … I want you to fuck me."

Freed's sleepy eyes popped open. "Wait, _what_?"

"Isn't it about time?" Laxus reasoned. "I mean seriously, you've only stuck your fingers up there." He scoffed softly. "Don't you think I want more than just that?"

Freed was stunned. Did Laxus really want … _that_?

Lips nibbled on Freed's ear. "I wanna lose my ass virginity here, in _our_ bed."

Freed knew his face was bright red, but Laxus merely nuzzled the back of his neck while humming in happiness.

"Yeah, it's a good place for that. We'll have breakfast, some coffee, and then you're going to top. I don't mean just riding on top. I want you in my ass. And I wanna videotape it."

"L-Laxus!" That was so much worse. His first time topping, his first time entering another man like that, and … and it would be … _videotaped?_

"Mmmmmh … all yours," Laxus muttered. "My ass … all yours. Only yours." In under a minute he was breathing heavily right into Freed's ear.

Although he was exhausted, Freed stayed awake a while longer, now nervous—and excited—at the two of them taking yet another major step in their relationship. Come morning, he would be the giver for the first time.

**Next Chapter: Angel of the Morning**


	30. Angel of the Morning

_A/N: I know many found the recording to this chapter and the next one online two months ago.  
chirb. it/Hp4mJ4_

_The reason for the delay is my wrist has not healed even after nearly a year, torn ligaments apparently take a long time, and I'm still in therapy to regain mobility. To make matters worse, apparently a curse falls upon anyone who tries to help me by typing up my audio recordings. Seriously, they are cursed! I got help, for which I am immensely thankful, but my transcriber was also cursed with computer failure. I am so sorry! You have my gratitude. I'm sure everyone else is glad to have a new chapter. Three cheers for my transcriber!_

_I mention three musical talents: Juice Newton, Bette Midler, and one of my favorite modern composers, Frank Ticheli. My concert band has performed his works numerous times. I am also two degrees of separation from him. My college music professor has performed with Frank Ticheli._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Juice Newton's "Angel of the Morning" or any of the lyrics.  
_

* * *

Chapter 30

**Angel of the Morning**

Morning came too early for Freed. It was one of those mornings when he would have told his mother "Five more minutes" and slept in another twenty. This time there was no alarm, just the sun streaming through. He forgot to shut the curtains.

Wait. He never opened the curtains at night normally. Who pulled aside the curtains?

That was when he realized there was an arm draped around his waist and breathing in his hair.

Laxus! He was home!

He rolled around and saw the blond god, here, in his bed. The sight was glorious. His face was smashed down into Freed's pillow until his cheek and lips puckered out. His naked shoulders swelled and sank with deep, steady breaths. Freed looked at the ink just under the skin, those swirl-patterned tattoos. He remembered washing this body last night, scrubbing every inch of it, and more. So much more! Freed blushed as he thought about waking up to this sight every morning from now on, feeling these arms around him, spending every day with Laxus. It would no longer be a matter of scheduling in one another between work, school, studying, and family. They were living together now. They obviously could not spend every moment together, but they could at least see one another in the morning, just like this.

As Freed moved, a beam of sunlight hit Laxus in the eyes. He snorted, his face squinted up, and the heavy breaths stopped. One eye cracked open. He saw a green glow. Mornings were not supposed to be green, but this verdant sunrise made him smile faintly. The room smelled of lube, sweat, and Old Spice. Laxus didn't use Old Spice. Freed did.

He closed his eye again, and his arms squeezed around Freed a little tighter.

He was home!

Laxus had a moment when he realized, from now on, his sunrises would be green. He would wake up with his arms around Freed, this soft bed and satin pillows, this smell until it blended into his own, greeting the dawn with his angel of the morning.

"Hey there," Freed said softly, his voice scratchy from last night's moans. "You awake?"

"No." Laxus did not want to wake and find this morning to be normal and bland, or worse, all a dream and he was still in some cheap hotel in Greece. He wanted to stay like this for as long as possible, wrapping his arms around Freed.

Long, delicate fingers raked through his scalp. "Your hair is … shining in the sunlight."

It felt so good. Smells swirled: the Old Spice, morning breath, some sort of air freshener that smelled like fresh laundry. "Don't talk. Still sleeping."

Freed chuckled and continued to run his fingers through the golden glow of Laxus' hair in the sunlight. "You have really bad breath in the morning."

"Fuck you," Laxus grumbled. His breath was bad? The brat should smell his own!

Freed laughed and stretched, feeling his muscles pull against the stiffness. He had a cramp in his thigh and ached absolutely everywhere. It was an amazing feeling, the muscle burn and the small bruises, all of it. The masochist in him loved waking up with pain in all of his most sensitive spots.

Laxus opened his eyes again and watched Freed secretively. Seriously, was this brat _trying_ to look like an angel? The way he stretched his arms above his head, how the sunlight framed a halo around him, the sweet music of his morning moan, the way his face looked in ecstasy with his eyes close and his mouth open in a yawn … Laxus swore, if he was just a little more awake, he would have ravaged Freed again just as punishment for looking this damn sexy first thing in the morning.

Laxus wanted more sleep, his body was utterly worn out, his brain was still in jet lag, but there was no way he wanted to miss seeing the way Freed's muscles tensed and corded as he stretched. He was too thin, though. He had been eating poorly, probably more focused on studying than on his own health. Laxus felt compelled to change that. He would take Freed out to eat. Or maybe he should cook for him. They could sit on the couch together watching television and feed him popcorn or grapes or something he could slide into that mouth and feel the lips lightly suck his fingers. He would have to make sure his sweet angel did not wither away.

"You wake up too early," he grumbled.

Freed glanced at his alarm clock. It was nine in the morning. "If you think this is early, you wake up way too late."

Laxus finally shifted, feeling the stiffness of his own muscles. He could only imagine how much worse this was for Freed. "I'm used to working until two in the morning, getting home around three, eat some dinner, watch the sunrise, watch some crap TV," he chuckled, realizing how pathetic this all sounded, "and go to bed with the windows blocked to keep the sunlight out." This was normally his bedtime, not wakeup time.

"So you're a night owl."

Laxus barked a brief laugh. "Yeah, that's putting it one way."

He had not adapted to a nocturnal lifestyle by choice, but by necessity. The strip club closed at two, and if he had a client that night it was common to not come back home until late morning, then crash out for any sleep he could get. 'Like a dragon that hunts by night' one of his former neighbors had put it. He felt that more appropriate than saying he was an owl, filled with wisdom. He had felt more like a fierce dragon, out hunting for the next rich bastard he could tie up and beat.

His mind thought about it: a dragon and an angel of the morning!

He seriously needed to listen to some heavy metal just to get Juice Newton out of his fucking head.

"No clue how I'd sleep now," he shrugged. "I don't have to worry about all that." Those days were over. The days of working at the strip club, allowing himself to be put on display, touched and ogled, acting like a dominant thunder god for a roomful of perverts, the loud music, lap dances, masochistic clients, even the fetish club that had sated him for a time. All of it was over. He was starting fresh.

"Uh, yeah," Freed whispered, and he laid back down. Although he did not mind the fetish club, the shadow of those early days, the darkness of what Laxus had been, would always be there, somewhere in the background.

"I'm glad," Laxus smiled, seeing the pensive look in Freed's face. He rolled over, popped up onto an elbow, and stroked his fingers over the sallow cheeks. "I just wanna be yours."

When his words made Freed smile, that little gleam of happiness melted Laxus' heart. All his! All Freed's! He did not hate his time as a strip dancer since it was what worked best at the time, and he never regretted it since that was what led him to finding Freed. The South Pole Club was a place where heaven and hell met, where a dragon of the dark could change into an Aesirian god, and where an angel could alight for a moment and rescue him from the pit.

He realized Freed's eyes had closed again. Laxus let his fingers drag over the warm skin. There were bruises, small marks from where his thumbs had dug in or where his lips sucked a little too hard. Although Laxus felt a twinge of guilt for hurting him, he also felt proud of each mar on his skin. They showed that Freed was his again.

"Are you still tired?"

Freed moaned softly, enjoying the touches, so tender after last night.

"I don't blame you," Laxus smiled softly. He had pushed Freed far beyond his limits, enough sex to make up for those weeks of loneliness. "How 'bout I make us some coffee while you rest a little more?"

"Mmh … Sounds good." Freed's voice trailed off, and his shoulder sank into the mattress.

Laxus laughed softly as he sensed him drifting off to sleep. "All right." He kissed Freed's hair and shifted out of the bed.

Freed dreamed of something, but he could not remember the details, only that Laxus had been there. They were on a beach, or maybe an island, their own island far from everything, from families, from deadbeat fathers, from homophobic assholes, just them sitting on the beach, sand in his toes, Laxus' chest behind him like a solid rock, and lumbering arms wrapped around him as the sea breeze brought the smell of bacon and coffee.

Wait, what?

He stirred, the sand and sea gone, but the savory aromas of breakfast became reality. Something smelled good! Freed finally pulled himself out of bed and ran to the bathroom. Laxus had really filled his ass the night before.

He did his business, washed his face, put on boxers and a faded teeshirt from some fencing tournament he won five years ago, and draped his robe around him. Barefoot, he padded out, following the scent like a dog being beckoned.

In the kitchen, he saw him. His master!

Only this morning, Laxus was in yellow boxers and a skintight black tank top with Freed's apron tied around him to protect him from the splashes of bacon grease. Freed paused, taking in the scene. He wanted to remember this: waking up, their first morning as a couple living together, and Laxus fixing him breakfast. For the rest of his life, he wanted to remember this scene of domestic bliss.

"Hey!" he called out. He wanted to see Laxus' face. He wanted his blue eyes in this memorable moment. When he turned around, Freed blinked, like a camera lens snapping a picture. He would remember this when he was old, remember the sunlight on the yellow boxers and yellow hair, the blue apron and blue eyes, and his mind would label it: _First Morning Together_.

Laxus paused when he turned around. Freed was standing in the doorway, just casual Freed, not an angel or succubus, not the sex fiend from last night sucking his cock like a damn porno star. Just Freed, wearing a robe and comfortable old clothes with messy hair and cheeks blotched from scrubbing away the sleep. Laxus loved this sight. Freed Justine. His Freed!

"Hey, s'up?" he called out, trying to sound casual.

Freed stepped in, wrapped himself around Laxus' back, and looked over his shoulder to see the stove. "Is that … is that bacon? I thought you're Jewish."

Laxus scoffed softly as he watched the meat sizzle. "Everyone loves bacon."

"Right," Freed muttered, thinking about the ham dinner at Christmas. "You're not really _that_ Jewish, right?"

"Yeah, not really," he muttered, more focused on the food. "Not into all that Jewish stuff. A lot of it … eh." He gave a shrug to show he was not all that interested in his heritage. "I mean seriously, have you ever read all the rules and stuff and the Bible? I mean, you can't mix your clothes, like silk boxers and your cotton robe, that's wrong. Eating bacon, that's wrong." He frowned and muttered, "Hell, what we do is wrong!" He heard about it too much on the news, religious groups going after gays, reports of people getting attacked, even killed, just because they were homosexual. It sickened him. "So you know, fuck all that stuff. Some of it's good, though," he insisted. "Do unto others, that thing."

Freed chuckled softly and rested his cheek on Laxus' back. "I think you're quoting the wrong part of the Bible." He remembered his Sunday school lessons and those words from Jesus.

"Yeah, whatever," Laxus grumbled, not all that interested in New versus Old Testament quotes. "So, you like bacon, right?"

"Of course."

"All right," he smiled, glad he got that right, but then instantly realizing it was a stupid question. This was Freed's apartment. He had bought the groceries himself. Freed would not have bought bacon if he did not like it. It was still hard to realize that this was Freed's own place, not a dorm with Loke, but his own. Theirs! It would take a while to sink in. "There's bacon, but I have no idea how you like your eggs, so I just scrambled them."

"O-oh." Freed laughed nervously, stepping aside so Laxus could cook. "I like them over-easy, but scrambled's fine!" he assured.

"Right, over-easy. I'll remember that for next time." Laxus filed that away. He wanted to make awesome breakfasts for Freed, so he needed to learn how he liked to eat. "Oh, some toast. I just used whatever you had."

Freed roamed around and saw bits of breakfast already prepared. Laxus had been busy. He saw the brown bread with toasted bits, a little too dark for his taste, but he could adjust to what Laxus liked, or at least learn how he liked to eat things. Freed prided himself in his cooking, and he was determined to fix Laxus a good meal one of these days. Then he realized he had bought wheat bread. Gluten! Did Laxus have celiac?

"Is wheat all right with you?" he asked in worry.

"Yeah." Laxus took the bacon out, turned off the stove, and brought the plate of fried meat over to the table. He laughed softly as he set it down by the toast and the eggs getting cold.

Freed saw the humor in Laxus' face and arched an eyebrow. "What?"

"We're figuring out all sorts of crazy stuff about each other, aren't we? How we like our eggs, what we like with toast…"

He shook his head. Simple domestic things, so every-day and banal, yet it was amazing _how much_ they still did not know about each other. Something as simple as breakfast showed how far they still had to go, how big their future was, discovering everything about one another.

There were days when Laxus felt like Freed had always been in his life, and whatever came before him was just a dream, a fantasy, no more real than the spectacle he put on the stage with a brass pole and tricks of lighting. And then there were days when he realized he and Freed had so far to go, so much to see, so many things to learn about one another. Life would never be boring. Thirty years could pass, and he would still be discovering things about Freed.

"How do you like your coffee by the way?" He moved off to get two mugs he had found earlier. "It might be a bit strong but, uh … I like it strong." Not knowing what else to do, he simply made it the way he liked it.

"If it's too strong, I can just add creamer."

"Yeah, all right. I saw the creamer somewhere."

Freed rested his cheek on his hand as he sat at the table and watched Laxus moving around. Seeing his ass sticking out of the apron was so sexy, Freed's mind whirled. Only this discussion about food kept him grounded.

"You don't take creamer?

Laxus shook his head. "No, just some sugar. Where's your sugar?"

"U-um, third cabinet over."

"All right." Laxus shifted over to the cabinets and opened one. "Oh, okay."

Freed chuckled to himself, gazing at him with hazy eyes. Laxus, here in his kitchen, making breakfast! "I gotta show you where everything is, huh?"

"I figured out most of it," Laxus said, slightly defensive. "I'll just look around and see where things are. I've got time."

Time! He had plenty of time, but how long really? Months? Years? Would they still be a couple ten years from now? Did he want that? Fuck, hell yes he wanted it! He wanted a lifetime with Freed. Thinking about it made Laxus fumble, and he almost spilled coffee as he brought the cups over.

"Well, here you go: bacon, eggs, with toast. Coffee." He set the coffee mugs down. Then he bolted to the refrigerator and pulled out some orange juice. "And a little cup of juice."

Freed looked around at the setting. Laxus had actually put a lot of effort into this. Freed was stunned that he even put the fork, knife, and spoon in the right order. "That's quite a breakfast." He never ate this much in the morning.

"Most important meal of the day, right?" Laxus said sagely.

Freed hummed in agreement. He gingerly tasted the eggs. They were plain, no salt or pepper. Laxus left seasoning to Freed, which was considerate. He fixed up his eggs was munching on a strip of bacon.

After sipping some coffee, Laxus picked up his headphones and put them on. He seriously needed to get away from Juice Newton and any sappy love songs. Classical would be good. Something with no lyrics to bother him as he ate.

Freed frowned. "H-hey, um, why're you putting on headphones?" He had wanted to talk, although he had no clue what they could say.

"Well, to listen to music, of course," Laxus shrugged.

"Oh, um, I-I thought we could talk … or something."

"About what?

"I don't know. Just … I guess there's nothing really to talk about," he admitted quietly.

Laxus gave a shrug and buttered his toast. "I like to listen to music when I eat."

Freed glanced up dubiously. "You've _never_ done that."

"'Cuz every time we eat, it's _out_ somewhere, at a restaurant or your parents' place. I can't listen to music then. If you're on a date, you don't put on your headphones; it's kind of a standard rule, you know. This isn't a date. This is just…" He shrugged and took a bite out of the toasted bread. "…breakfast."

"Just breakfast," Freed repeated in amusement.

He thought about that. _Just breakfast._ He knew Laxus was right. Every meal they shared so far had either been in a restaurant, café, a shop around the campus, or one of his family's parties. They had never just sat around the dorm or the tenement and ate a meal together. Now, they were just … eating. They were sitting together casually, a couple having breakfast at home … in _their_ home!

"H-hey, what do you … what do you listen to?" Freed asked eagerly.

Laxus looked up and lowered the volume. "Huh?"

"Uh, well, when you eat. Maybe I wanna hear it."

"Get your own headphones!" he snapped. He saw the hurt expression and laughed at how cute Freed could be when he pouted. "Here, take a listen."

Freed instantly snapped back into a happy-puppy mode. Laxus plopped the headphones over his ears, startling him slightly, but he immediately heard something he was not expecting. Maybe it was due to his days as a dancer, but Freed expected something powerful, percussive, and maybe a little racy. Instead, there were soaring French horns and fluttering clarinets as timpani pattered and thundered behind.

"It's rather nice. I don't recognize it, though."

"Modern composer. Frank Ticheli."

"It's pretty." He handed the headphones back.

Laxus placed them over his ears again. The sound of flutes calmed him. "Yeah."

Freed let a soft giggle slip out. "I still don't picture you as the classical type."

"Screw you! Of course I like classical music. I mean, I like classics—AC/DC, some Metallica sometimes—but," he smiled, sipping his coffee, "nothing beats the classics."

Freed hummed happily to himself. Laxus was a man filled with surprises. When he first saw him, there were plenty of stereotypes Freed had assumed. When he got to know _Thor_ as _Laxus_, he thought he knew everything. Then he surprised Freed. Just when he thought he knew everything, something else popped up.

Like this food! As Freed and Laxus ate in silence, Freed was truly impressed. He had been skipping breakfast many times, opting to grab a granola bar or just buying a muffin from the coffee stand at the university. He almost forgot the taste of eggs, especially scrambled like this. He still thought the toast was too dark, but it was not bad, and the coffee was strong but not bitter.

Laxus finished first, and he refilled his coffee cup, sitting back in the chair, sipping steaming black coffee as he watched Freed. Cooking for someone else … he probably had not done that since his mother was alive. There were times as a child when he would make dinner for both of them, since she had to work late. It felt good, seeing someone enjoy the meal he made.

At last, Freed lifted his napkin and dabbed his mouth, the plate scraped clean. "Thanks for the meal."

"Yeah, no problem," Laxus smiled. Under the table, his foot tapped Freed's. He watched as the sallow cheeks flushed.

Freed remembered what Laxus said the night before.

_"Hey, I was thinking something. Come morning, our seventh time, that perfect time … I want you to fuck me."_

Freed gulped now. Was this foot-tapping a signal? Was Laxus ready for … for that?

_"Don't you think I want more than just that?"_

He wanted more! More than BDSM, more than blow jobs and taking Freed's ass all the time. He wanted more! That!

_"I want you in my ass. And I wanna videotape it."_

Oh God, he wasn't serious, was he? Freed was pretty sure he could make Laxus feel good, he had thought about asking if Laxus was ready to try it that way, but … videotaped? His first time topping? All the awkwardness? Hell no!

"I'll do dishes."

Freed jolted at the words. "Uh, okay."

Laxus got up, collected the plates, and washed them quickly. Meanwhile, Freed squirmed in his chair.

_"We'll have breakfast, some coffee, and then you're going to top."_

The time was coming. He would do it, since Laxus wanted it. His body still ached, but he would do it. He would fight against the videotaping, and he would lose against Laxus' stubbornness. Then he would give Laxus a show worth rewatching. Still, it made him nervous. He had never entered someone. What if he totally screwed it all up?

Laxus dried his hands and turned to Freed, smiling as he walked back to the table. Freed's eyes dropped, bashful that maybe Laxus could see the lewd things he was thinking about.

"So, um … um, what do you wanna do next?" he asked breathlessly.

Where would he want to do it? The bedroom like normal? On the couch? Right here, spread out on the table?

Laxus looked around casually and hummed to himself. "It's morning still. Let's watch the news."

Freed jolted. "T-the news?"

"Well, yeah! You know: TV, news anchors, crazy weathermen."

"Oh uh … um, okay. I mean, is that something you do?" he stuttered out. Was he setting this up to have sex on the couch?

"Of course," Laxus said firmly. "Gotta keep up with what's going on."

"Oh." Freed laughed nervously.

Once again, Laxus surprised him. He thought a man like him didn't give a shit about politics, government scandals, Hollywood gossip, foreign travesties, and local miscellaneous. He stuttered nonsense again before agreeing. He heard Laxus moan, saw him stretch out some stiff muscles that reminded him of his own weary aches, before the blond took his mug back to the coffee pot.

"Another cup of coffee?"

The blond looked down at his cup, then up to Freed as if wondering what the problem was. "That's only my second."

"Only?" Freed drank coffee, but one cup had him buzzing all day. "You drink a lot of coffee, huh?"

"Hell yeah. Bad habit. Don't get into it."

Freed laughed, remembering how his mother used to warn him about drinking coffee every morning.

"No seriously." Laxus poured the coffee and stirred in a little more sugar. "I'm, like, addicted to this crap and get a headache."

He marched over to the living room, and Freed scrambled to follow him. They walked together to the couch, sat with their thighs touching, and Laxus turned on the news. He sighed as he settled in to the weatherman cracking jokes about the heat. It then cut to sports, something about golf, and Freed waited in boredom. Unless it was fencing, he had no interest in sports. Entertainment was slightly better. At least Freed knew the actors, although he thought it was sad when they mentioned about possible scandals. Maybe these weren't scandals at all. Maybe that photo of a chaste kiss was totally out of context. Freed could hardly help but think 'What if that happened to us?' What if he and Laxus were the ones everyone wanted a scoop on? He was not famous like Brad Pitt or Benedict Cumberbatch, but his father was a powerhouse in his own right. On a bored week without political rants or Hollywood sex tapes or a natural disaster in some remote part of the planet, the news might latch on to the gay heir to a fortune and his former-strip-dancer BDSM master-slash-boyfriend.

Freed turned his attention away from some report about an actress adopting a new cat—really, who cared—and looked at Laxus. His eyes were unfocused as he sipped his coffee, one leg crossed over his knee, an arm draped over the back of the couch, looking surprisingly comfortable in these new surroundings.

"You don't really seem to be watching the news," Freed pointed out.

Laxus took another sip as the news changed to some protests in Russia. "It's the relaxation in the morning."

"Oh." Freed was not sure what to say about that, but if this was part of Laxus' routine, he wanted to let him do it. They would slowly learn what each other's routines were and fit into the ebb and flow of normal life together.

"I watch it," he insisted. "I like to know what's going on. Especially if it seems like it's my dad."

Freed tensed up at that. "O-oh … yeah, I guess so."

His dad! Laxus had just come back from hunting down his father. He failed, but he had not given up, not yet. What if that man's face showed up on the television screen? Would Laxus race off again? Would he leave, just like that, quicker this time, no chance to lose him, fly away and maybe be gone for weeks, months, a year?

Laxus slid his eyes over and saw the pinch between Freed's brow. "Hey, don't worry about it." Still, Laxus wondered as well. What if he had another chance? Would he leave? He wanted to stay here forever, but he wanted that sonuvabitch to pay. Revenge now battled against love, and both were powerful forces. "Oh! Stocks report." Not like he followed the stock market, but it was a distraction, it was domestic, it was not going to mention people wanted by Interpol. "Hey, that's your company, huh?"

Freed snapped his head up and saw the logo for Justine Corporation. "Y-yeah. Man, we went down." He muttered to himself, "I wonder what happened."

"Is that bad for you?"

"Uh, well, overall it usually balances out." He knew a drop in stocks was nothing to panic over. If stocks went down, they were bound to come up. Unless, of course, something major happened in the company. If that was the case, the news would be all over it. Freed shrugged, not paying the issue much mind. "Something might have happened, who knows." It would be his problem one day, but not yet.

"Hey, um." Laxus frowned as he ignored the rest of the Wall Street news. "If people found out about … _us_, would that make your company's stocks go down?"

Freed gawked over at him. "Laxus!"

"What? I'm a little worried now. I mean," and he scoffed softly, "what is there to me? You know, I don't really have anything, my grandpa's retired, parents are out of the picture. If people find out about me being with you, who cares? But _you_! I mean, your family's kinda famous."

"We're not famous," Freed laughed wryly.

"Your dad runs a freaking corporation!"

That was true, and he hated that he had just been thinking about something similar. "Well, we're not famous," he said stubbornly, mostly to convince himself that the news would never give him a hard time.

"You're rich!" Laxus cried out. "You have a lot to lose."

Freed looked hurt and worried by his arguments. "Laxus?"

"Look, I'm not leaving you," he assured. "I don't care if your whole company goes bankrupt because of me, I'm keeping you!"

Hearing that felt nice. It made Freed smile and lean in a little closer. "Well, you know, I don't think it would actually go down. I think … y'know, there's so much support lately for homosexual couples, I think the stocks might actually go up."

Laxus glanced down in surprise. "Really?" He could not imagine that.

"Sure! I mean, I don't wanna go onto the evening news and say, 'Hey, guess what, I'm sleeping with this guy,' y'know, but if it happened to come out…"

He gave a shrug, playing it off as not really being a concern, although there were moments when it really was for him. Not the business aspect of their relationship, if it would help or hurt the company. He heard plenty of that when he first came out as being gay as a teen. His father was in a rage that he was the eldest son, he had duties to carry on the company, have children, be respectable to the outside world. If people found out he was gay, stocks would go down, investors would pull out, and people would stop doing business with them. Surprisingly, it had been Liberty to calm Llewellyn. She was not happy about it either, but he was still her son. She had to respect who he was. The world could change.

And the world did change. Over the years, people became more tolerant. Being homosexual was no longer the taboo it once was. Now, some liberal business professor in Freed's university had the audacity to say "being pro-gay can boost business." Freed did not want to flaunt his sexuality either. It was no one's business if he liked women or men or anything in between. Orientation should affect business no more than race or gender. (It was just a shame that pretty much anything really did affect the prosperity of companies.)

"I'm not going to make it public," he assured Laxus. "It's my own private life. It's my business."

Laxus smiled proudly down at him. Freed was used to this; he had to remind himself of that sometimes. He had grown up with bodyguards, security cameras in every room, being announced at grand galas and débutante balls, maybe news cameras and reporters shouting questions at his father. Laxus had hidden his name as much as possible; Freed did not have that luxury, but he was used to it. He could take care of himself. Those moments when it was blatant that he was no quivering mouse made Laxus so proud.

"That's right," he praised with a soft laugh, patting down Freed's hair. A few strands were still frizzy from the morning. They had not even showered yet. Freed's hair felt a little stiff in the back from sweating, and two parts on the top kept breaking free and sticking out like alien antennas. "And if they do say anything, screw them all. Besides," Laxus smirked slyly, "I'm still able to blackmail a few people."

His past! Freed hated that past. "Laxus, don't!"

"Nah, I won't use them as blackmail," he promised. "That's shitty. But if anything ever happened—anything to you or to your family—I'd be willing to."

"… Thank you." It really did mean a lot, knowing Laxus would take care of not just him, but his family. Family was everything to Freed.

Freed focused on the television again, but his eyes saw little. His biggest concern was the privacy issue. His family was used to it. He had some vague memory of hiding behind his mother's skirts as cameras flashed and his father spoke with boisterous strength about opening a new building for the company. He grew to be used to it, to face those cameras, when to answer and when to keep quiet even when you wanted to answer their questions. Laxus knew nothing of that. Freed did not want Laxus to be smothered by paparazzi. Knowing him, he might punch a reporter if they moved in too close toward Freed. _That_ would definitely hurt business. If they both lived a quiet, normal enough life and kept the Justine Corporation running smoothly, there was no need for the media to dig into his personal life. If, behind closed doors, he liked being spanked and tied up to the bed, that was certainly none of their business.

Mmm … spanked! His ass still hurt, and he shifted positions on the couch.

Freed hummed softly, growing nervous. Sitting here and watching television was not calming him down. What Laxus wanted kept running through his mind.

"Um, about … l-later, when we … you know." He tucked his chin down, although Laxus was focused on the television screen. "You … a-and me … and…"

"Hey!" Laxus shouted without warned.

Freed jolted up. "What?"

"That's Bickslow!"

"Wh-what?" Freed swiveled back around on the couch. "Oh!" Sure enough, his younger brother was grinning at a camera with his tongue hanging out so far, you could see the tattoo he got there not long ago. "Oh my God!" he muttered, amazed to see his brother's face on TV. He glanced around the screen for clues about the report. "I didn't see it. What was it about?"

"He got busted."

"Drugs again?"

Laxus looked over in amazement. "Again?"

"Eh, yeah, it's a thing," Freed shrugged, not all too happy at Bickslow's horrible hobby. "What happened?"

"Something about heroin?"

"Oh God," Freed groaned. Not the first time. "Idiot! Is he okay?"

Laxus turned the volume up. "They just said he's in the hospital."

"Wh-what…?" The news then showed a shot of the hospital building. "Oh! I know that hospital." Magnolia General Hospital. There was no way anyone could miss it.

Freed watched, but that was the end of the clip. It was now discussing a house fire across town. Laxus turned the volume back down and looked over to this boyfriend with concern. Freed looked pale and lost, and Laxus had no clue what to do for him.

Freed's ears buzzed. Bickslow was in the hospital. Overdose. Heroin.

"I … I need to tell … my family … and … and…"

Family. The family had to stick together. Something his mother once said ran through his mind, drowning out something Laxus was saying to comfort him. _'If anything bad ever happens in this family, just stay by them. No matter how bad, the Justine family sticks together. We never abandon one another. Our strength is in our family.'_

Family. He needed to contact the family. Maybe they didn't see the report. Maybe they didn't know. The family had to come together now. All differences had to be placed aside. Bickslow needed to see that his family was there for him. Whatever drove him to overdose, he had to see that he still at least had his family. The family stuck together!

The shrill ring of his phone, a tone he used only for family members, made Freed jolt. He ran to the bedroom where he left the cellphone last night and picked it up, seeing his sister's profile picture on the front.

"Evergreen!"

"Did you see it?" she asked, her voice filled with dread.

"Yeah, I just saw it right now." He glanced to the living room where Laxus was turning off the television.

"Where's Dad?"

Freed jolted at the question. "Uh, I don't know." He had not spoken to his father since graduation.

"I tried calling him, but he's not answering." Her voice was climbing with panic.

"It's fine," he said, trying to use his older brother voice, something he had not needed to do since they were children and Evergreen would get scared of the dark. "I mean, maybe he's in the bathroom."

"I called the house." He heard her breathing going erratic. "They said he's been missing for three days!"

Three days? The report, stocks going down, now Bickslow had overdosed, and his father was missing. Freed had been ignoring the drama in the family as much as possible, putting all focus on school, but there had always been clashes between his brother and his father. What the hell was going on?

"Oh God." He rubbed his face and spun around, looking for something to anchor him. Here he was, getting fucked until he nearly passed out, and something dreadful was happening in the family. It made him feel guilty for abandoning them all. He had to take control now. It was one of those moments he knew would come, the day he had to step up and be in charge of the family. He had to guide them through this. Until their father was found, he was in charge.

"Okay, you stay calm," he said to Evergreen, keeping his voice level. "Go to the hospital and see how Bickslow's doing. I'll meet you there. Okay?"

"But what about Dad?" she shrieked.

"I'll … I'll look for Dad." He had to be in charge until Father was found. "Just make sure that Bickslow's okay." He wished she would understand. Their mother was in France. Their father was missing. It was up to the two of them to show solidarity.

She let out a breath, and Freed could practically see her coming to the same conclusion. "Right, okay."

"All right," he smiled, proud his little sister could also rise to the occasion when needed. "I'll see you there."

"Freed," she called out before he could hang up. "Um … how are you doing?"

"Uh, I'm fine," he said with a shrug. He had calmed down now. He had a duty.

"I heard from that roommate of yours, _that guy_ is back."

"Laxus, yeah." Just then, Laxus walked into the bedroom still holding his coffee cup. "Yeah, he's back." Seeing the blond made Freed smile. He could do this if he had Laxus with him.

"Did you two make up?

Freed laughed and looked at the messy bed. "Uh, yeah." Made up, and then some!

"That's good." She sounded genuinely relieved, as if she now had confidence Freed really could take charge since he had such a solid rock to support him. "I rather like him. He's good for you."

Freed's mouth dropped and his eyes softened. "…Thank you."

He had only vague approvals from his parents, mere acceptance out of propriety, never thinking Laxus was a truly good match, never really wanting such an uncouth man for their son. Knowing his sister saw how good Laxus was, how _needed_ he was in Freed's life, deeply touched him. He would have hugged her and cried if they were together.

He felt a touch on his shoulder and jolted. Laxus had a soft smile, probably guessing what was being said.

Freed focused back onto the phone. "Uh, I'll see you…"

"…R-right, at the hospital," she finished, both of them jolting out of the moment. "I'll see you there!"

"All right, take care"

"You too."

Freed ended the call and set the phone down. He felt the tenseness between his brows, and when Laxus stepped up, all Freed could do was look up at him, lost and struggling to stay strong, stay in control. This was about the world outside, and out there he was Freed Justine, heir to a corporation, a man in control of his destiny, a son who would control the fate of all of his employees.

"Your sister?" Laxus asked.

"Yeah, she must have seen it."

"What was that about your dad?"

His father. Shit! His father! "Uh … he … he's been missing for three days." The stability was cracking. He knew he could crumble. Here, in this safe room that was theirs alone, he did not need to stay strong. He still tried out of a sense of pride, but it was a struggle. "She tried calling his phone and he's not answering, and the house, they don't know where he is." Dread turned to anger, and Freed burst in outrage. "Dammit, Bickslow! Why did you do this again?"

He kicked the edge of the bed and collapsed with his face buried in his hands. He had to be strong. The family had to stick together. His father was missing. He was in charge. He had to be strong!

Laxus sat beside him, but he did not touch Freed. He knew this was one of _those_ moments. There would be many, he supposed. He could break Freed's pride and crumble him at any moment, but today was one of the times when Laxus had to be the foundation, rock hard, lifting Freed from shame, and fixing his broken wings. His angel had to fly, had to be perfect, a pure being for the world to gaze upon in awe; Laxus had to be the shadow in the background, the wind beneath his wings—_'Fuck, I just went from Juice Newton to Bette Midler!'_—supporting him without being seen. Freed needed to be the perfect son today, the proud plutocrat, a symbol of strength. Laxus was prepared to give him all the strength he could spare.

"Look, you go be with your brother."

Freed raised his head, and there were tears on his cheeks. "B-b-but … my dad! He needs to know."

"I'll deal with that," Laxus promised.

Freed stared in confusion. "What?"

"I'll search for him."

"You'll search for him?" he repeated blankly.

"Oh c'mon! I've been searching for my dad for years! I can find your dad."

Find Father. Find Dad. Find him. Laxus could find him. Laxus knew people. Be with the family. Leave the searching to Laxus. "Um … y-yeah, I guess so," he muttered, his mind still in chaos. "You'd do that?"

"Of course," Laxus said with a tender smile. He leaned over, wiped away the tears, and kissed Freed on the forehead. "He's your family."

Freed let out a soft hum. "Thank you."

Laxus rubbed his arms, hoping to instill confidence back into him. It seemed to work. Freed's back straightened and his chest filled up. Laxus could see the aristocrat returning.

"Now, go be with your brother. Give him a smack on the head for me."

Freed laughed softly and nodded. "Yeah, I will."

He got up and took a shower. Laxus straightened up the room and pulled out some clothes for Freed. It was a businessman's attire, good brands, a simple but nice tie, nothing overly formal or dreary. It would look like Freed rushed there from a business meeting, not that he saw the news while sitting in boxers and bathrobes with his boyfriend.

Freed came out and dressed mechanically, not all too surprised to see his clothes picked for him. He was used to it while living at home, a maid choosing the best combination. He did pause and picked different shoes. Laxus had made a small error, but it was understandable. The difference was subtle.

Laxus straightened down his hair, which still tried to stick up. "Are you okay to drive?" he asked, smoothing the hair and tucking the collar a little tighter.

Freed nodded. "Yeah. I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?"

He sniffed up some of the dread and pressed it back down. "Yeah." Still, he trembled as he tried to smile with reassurance. "Not the first time this has happened." He nearly broke down right there. Bickslow needed help, serious help. The press were all over this already. The family could not hide his addiction this time. He would get rehab and counseling; Freed would see to it. Finally! Finally, he would get real help.

Why had they never helped him before. The family knew he had a problem. They knew he was about to cross some border and fall off the edge. Why? Why had they done nothing? Months! Years! How long had this been going on, and never … to keep up appearances, to hide the family's secrets … never … they never helped him. _Why?_

Laxus finally hugged him and crushed away all those feelings of guilt. "Hey. It'll be all right," he whispered, kissing Freed's hair.

"Yeah," he said with a soft sigh. He wanted so badly to be strong, but he still had to turn to Laxus. It had always been his mother or father to deal with these issues, not him. He had always closed his eyes and simply wished it was not this way, dreamed it would get better, things would change. This time, Bisckslow would clean up for good. Father would deal with everything, Bickslow would come back, and things would be normal again.

This time, he was in charge. He had to be strong. He kept repeating that as a mantra to give him strength. He pulled himself out of the hug and squared his shoulders. Laxus could not be there, not this time. He had to face this on his own, and he could not break down, not even a little. He had to be strong and represent the family. Laxus would find his father. Father would come and deal with things. Until then, he was in charge. He had to be strong. For the family!

Laxus saw the stiffness, how Freed was already bottling down his emotions and fears. He wished he could be the strong one this time, but it was a family matter. He could only be the draconian shadow beneath his angel.

Freed laughed sadly and shook his head. "We had plans." What they talked about last night, all of that anticipation building, the sexual tension growing, and then real life dashed away all of it. In an instant, he had to abandon fantasy for cold reality.

"Plans can wait," Laxus assured him, rubbing his arms again, wishing he could cast a magic spell that would give Freed strength and fortitude. "Go be with your family. It's most important."

"Right," he nodded. The family needed him. The family stuck together. _Our strength is in our family._ Perhaps that was the ancient family motto of the Justines; he didn't know, but Freed knew that was his motto for the day. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah." Laxus leaned over and gave Freed a peck on the lips. "Be careful driving. Don't spaz out. Keep your speed down. You'll get to the hospital in time."

"All right," he smiled, happy to hear all of this fretting for his safety. He began to walk to the door. "I hope you can find Dad. And let me know!"

"Yeah," Laxus nodded, following him.

Freed paused at the doorway, turned back around to Laxus, and sighed as he tweaked his lips up in gratitude. "Thanks."

"Sure." He kissed Freed again on the forehead. "Bye."

"Bye," he whispered.

Laxus gazed down, and Juice Newton played through his head again.

_Just call me angel of the morning, angel._  
_Just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby._

Maybe the same song was in Freed's mind, or maybe he saw the need in those blue eyes. They both reached out to each other at the same time. Laxus gripped Freed's cheek, desperately wanting him to know how much he loved him. Freed reached up and placed a hand on Laxus' gruff jaw, letting him know that he felt the same. The gentle action made Laxus smile in relief. He leaned into those slender fingers. Then Freed tiptoed up and gave Laxus a kiss on the mouth, smiling with thanks, apology, love, everything he felt in that moment. He looked like he really did not want to go, but knew he could not stay any longer than this.

_If morning's echoes say we've sinned,_  
_Well, it was what I wanted now._

Laxus opened the door for him and watched Freed walk out. Before he had a chance to turn around and second-guess himself, Laxus closed the door. Freed was on his own for this one.

Laxus leaned against the door and stared out at the condo. His new home, living together with Freed, and already he had to help out the family. It would have been fine if Freed had his whole family with him. Instead, it was up to him and Evergreen. They had to help support Bickslow alone.

He seethed in anger. "Goddammit, Llewellyn! What the hell did you do?"

That bastard! Disappearing! For three days!

Laxus marched through the pristine condo, eyes sparking with frustration. Freed … _his Freed_ … had to go out there alone. He had to rise to the occasion, because _someone_ wasn't there. Family was supposed to be there. That bastard! Abandoning his kids!

Laxus picked up the phone. He had a few names he could call, but he had a suspicious feeling. He scrolled down and picked someone. The phone rang against his ear, and then a voice was on the other end.

"Hey. Yeah. Ye- … Yes, it's me. Yes!" he said in annoyance. "I know." He suddenly pulled the phone away from his ear and cringed at the screaming voice on the other end. Then he bellowed back at the person. "Will you shut up!" The voice went quiet. "Sorry. Look, I'm looking for someone; kinda average height, a little paunchy, turquoise colored eyes, kinda moosey-colored hair, and… Yeah! Yeah, Llewellyn. He's there?" he cried out in shock. "Are you kiddin' me?" he sneered. "Uh, no! No, don't get him. I'm coming down there." Then whatever the person said made him smile. "No, I'm not gonna start a fight. Actually, his son is looking for him." He scowled at the voice on the other end. "I said I'd be down there, okay? _Don't_ tell him I'm coming." He groaned in annoyance. "No! I'm not gonna cause a fight. I told you, his son is looking for him, okay?" He glared at whatever was being said. "I'm _fucking_ his son! Is that good enough?" He smirked at the shock on the other end. "Yeah, thought so. All right." He smiled as the voice went smoother. "Heh, yeah. Good to be back. See ya soon."

He hung up the phone and stared ahead. The thunder god was crackling with anger now.

**Next Chapter: Blessing**


	31. Blessing

Chapter 31

**Blessing**

Laxus walked into what appeared to be a normal inner city club, except for the blacked-out windows and a wall separating the rest of the club from the entrance. The person at the entry desk nodded to him in familiarity, and Laxus walked down the short hall. He rounded the corner of the wall and saw the club spread out. This was no normal establishment: the red walls, the black leather couches, a massive steal structure on the ceiling with chains hanging down ready to be used, and two cages, one cramped and so low the person would have to be on all fours to fit, the other narrow, upright, and hanging from the ceiling.

Not many people were in the fetish club this early in the morning. Laxus saw only one, a man in a rumpled white business suit, tie so loose it was almost off, hair a mess, eyes glazed from alcohol. The lady on the phone said Llewellyn hardly left. For three days, he stayed there from opening until they kicked him out. Where he went, no one knew, but he was smelling worse by the day and drinking heavier each time.

Laxus strode up quickly and slapped Llewellyn's back so hard, the ring cracked through the room. "Hey there!" he said with a jovial grin.

Llewellyn choked and coughed out spittle and beer, then looked up and nearly gagged again. "Thor!" He caught himself and shook out his head. "Uh-um…?" There was another name, a real name. His ethanol-addled brain tried to remember it.

"Laxus," the blond said.

"Right. La-Lax-Laxus." He looked up again, and his eyes saddened. "I thought you'd left the country."

"Yeah. I'm back," he said, spreading his arms out, his grand return. He smiled and settled down in a nearby chair. "So!" he said like greeting an old friend. Then Laxus' face went stone cold and he sneered out, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Llewellyn stiffened in dread at that face that threatened extreme punishment. "I-I'm allowed t-to go wherever I want!" he protested, shaking already in both fear and thrill.

"You knew this is the place I used to work."

"Uh … n- … I … No! Uh … Y-you worked here?" he stammered, ending in a tense grin of feigned innocence.

Laxus shook his head at the horrific lying. "You knew."

Llewellyn sank and dropped his head submissively before the dominant. "Who told you?"

"No one. I know you. You're rich, and you can figure this out: where did I go to work."

Llewellyn dared to raise his eyes, looking hurt because he had been deceived. "You're not an electrician," he stated with a pout.

Laxus laughed. That was what he told everyone these days. "Well, sometimes I am. I did fix the lights." He pointed to the ceiling and saw they still worked. Then his eyes narrowed at the middle-aged man in front of him. "You were here to see me."

Llewellyn gave him his most appealing smile. "I was hopeful." His hand crept forward, wanting to touch him again. Laxus saw and pulled back, folding his arms. Llewellyn's fingers curled back, and his head dropped in silent apology.

"Goddammit," Laxus sighed. He really thought this was over. He had hoped there would be no more awkwardness. Fuck his life! Fuck his past!

Llewellyn muttered awkwardly, "Look, if you're here, somewhere in public, and you … you happen to be working at a club…" Llewellyn stiffened stubbornly. "I'm allowed to go into that club!" He nodded firmly and stated in slow articulation, "I have the right to go where I want."

Laxus eyed him and saw the same proud expression as he had just seen on Freed. He knew now where Freed got that trait: those stiff and squared shoulders, the unsmiling face, the gleam in his eyes, even the way his thumb pressed down his other fingers until a knuckle cracked. All the same traits!

"You're right," Laxus said softly. He leaned back in his chair and nodded. "You have the right," he acceded, and Llewellyn grinned at his victory. Laxus drummed his fingers on the table, snapped his eyes over to Llewellyn, and said in a direly soft voice, "But don't ever come in here again. Do I make myself clear?"

The hissed word stung worse than a shout. Llewellyn stuttered as he felt imprisoned by those electric blue eyes. "Uh … b-but … Thor—"

"Laxus!" he snapped.

"L-Laxus," he whispered. Saying that name was saying the name of the man who loved his son, not the dominant who had fulfilled every kinky desire he ever wanted. _His Thor!_ "I just really needed to see you again. That was all! Just to see you," he sighed, aching for those days of being the slave and this blond god lording over him.

Laxus turned his eyes away, sickened by the neediness he was witnessing. "Goddammit," he whispered. Would that past never stop haunting him? Coldly, he stated, "Three fucking days."

Llewellyn looked stunned. Not acceptance, not a rejection, just a statement from out of nowhere. "Wh-what?"

Frustration turned to outrage. "You've been gone for three … fucking … _days_!" Laxus bellowed. "And your family has no clue where you are."

"I have my cel– … um." He glanced down at his phone and frowned. "Okay, it's dead." He stubbornly grabbed his drink. "I … I just needed to get away." He gulped down the amber liquid. "You don't know the type of stress I'm going through, okay!" he screamed. "Stocks are down, and … and Bickslow—"

"Bickslow's in the hospital," he cut in.

Llewellyn's drunken rant stopped as his face paled. "W-What?"

"Yeah. Overdosed. Almost died." Laxus slapped the glass out of Llewellyn's hand, and it smashed to the floor. "It was on the fucking news!" he screamed.

Llewellyn blinked numbly. "B-b-but he said…" His breath caught as his brain focused and remembered. "Oh God. I was yelling at him." His lower lip trembled, recalling harsh words, things he said, things he did not mean. He shook his head in despair and gasped for air as thoughts of his family, his precious children, tormented his conscience. His face collapsed into his hands. "Oh God!" He looked sick, ready to vomit it all back up. He began to cry with guilt.

Laxus sighed and looked away. How could he stay mad when this man was still a father and cared for his children? He made mistakes; he was human, an adult, and under intense stress. Still, even when he fucked up, he loved his children. That much was apparent by the devastation at hearing his younger son had almost died. Rather than the enraged lecture Laxus had prepared, the blond sighed and spoke calmly.

"Look, he's in the Magnolia General Hospital. Evergreen and Freed are already there."

"Okay," he nodded, straightening up.

Again, Laxus saw pride and dignity. It had taken Freed a long time to slip into the role society expected of him. Llewellyn seemed to be a pro at putting on the mask. One minute he was a mewling masochist begging to return to his former master, the next he was a shattered father racked with guilt, and as soon as he realized he had to face the world, as swift as a sword strike, he was a gentleman again.

"Wait, how do you know this?" Llewellyn asked belatedly.

"Freed and I are together."

Llewellyn stared for a long time. Together. He was _Laxus_. Laxus belonged to Freed. _Thor_ had been his master, but that was another man, a fantasy.

"Oh," he whispered. His eyes drifted. What sort of father was envious of his children? It was pathetic, undignified. He smiled against the pain. "Oh." His son had a man like this. He wanted the best for his children, and seriously this man was the best he had ever known. "I guess … yeah, he would take you back." Of course he would. Anyone would want this dominating god.

"I'm glad he did," Laxus nodded.

The faintest moan of disappointment slipped out as Llewellyn looked away. This man … _his Thor_ … was now with his son … fucking his son … those things they had shared together, moments of pain, pleasure, hours together … things like that … now with his son…

"Get it through your skull, Llewellyn. We're in love."

He jolted out of the past and looked up in shock. In love! He had shared so much with Thor, but never love. Never had Thor shown him love. What was it like to receive not just pleasure from this man, but his love? What was a god's love even like? How powerful it must be!

"What you and I had was a business arrangement," Laxus said coldly. "I know it meant a lot to you, and you were good people, but you were a _client_. That's all. One … of many … clients."

Llewellyn dropped his head. It really did hurt to hear that. All those fantasies, all those nights dreaming of this man, having him do wonderful, sensual, kinky things to him, and Laxus had merely been there to collect a paycheck. A client! One of many!

"I wasn't very special, huh?" he whispered sadly.

Laxus despised how similar their voices were. Closing his eyes, it would be like talking to Freed. If things had been different, if Freed had remained a mere client, would he have had a conversation like this with him? Would those turquoise eyes had looked so miserable? Laxus gulped before he could continue. He had to be cold now. This issue could never come up again. Never! Here and now, it had to end. With just the two of them, together, more or less alone, it had to stop.

"The only thing that made you special was the fact that you weren't a raging pervert. So please." Laxus paused for a moment and looked at Llewellyn with earnestness. "Don't act that way." It was a heartfelt plea. This had to end. He wanted it to end good. For Freed's sake, this had to end good!

Llewellyn fisted up both hands. He knew the same thing. It would never go back to how it was. Thor was dead. This was Laxus, and Laxus belonged to Freed. Still … if this was not right … if this was fickle as love so often is … if there was any hope…

Struggling to say the words, he asked, "How serious … are you and … m-my son?"

Laxus' eyes narrowed fractionally. "Fucking serious."

Lewellyn took a slow breath. He needed to know. To move on … no, this was not just about him and his worn out desires. To accept this, to accept _them_, to protect his son, to protect the whole family, he had to know. He had to!

His eyes flashed up, the glare of a father protecting his child. "How … serious?"

Laxus was momentarily frozen by that paternal stare, but he faced this challenge without flinching. "Let me put it this way." He firmed up, and with the strongest, most somber expression he could give, Laxus asked, "Do I have permission to have him?"

The request stunned the older man. "W-wait, you mean—?"

"Do I have your permission? Your blessing?" Laxus did not flinch, blush, or show the anxiety racing frantically in his heart. He stared unblinking, waiting as Llewellyn slowly processed what was being asked.

"Uh!" he cried out in anguish. He had hoped it was something fleeting. They were both young, it was summer love, nothing more. Hearing this … he never expected it from any of his children so soon. He gulped hard and tried to regain his composure. "Uh … a-are you two…?"

"Not yet," Laxus said, skipping past all the stutters of surprise, "but I'd like to know I at least have your blessing for when I'm ready."

Laxus shifted his hand forward on the table, and Llewellyn glanced down to it. The light caught a gleam on the silver promise ring with an etched sword. Freed's sword! Llewellyn looked up in astonishment and silent questioning. Laxus gave a wordless nod. Yes, that was Freed's ring. Llewellyn's happiness won over, and he blinked away tears.

"You're that serious, huh?"

"Yeah," Laxus answered, but he still gulped, waiting and worrying. If he did not have permission, then fuck them all. Still, family was everything to Freed. For his sake, Laxus wanted this. He needed it. He had to know the family approved.

"I see," Llewellyn said solemnly. He struggled between a grimace and a smile, the pain of realizing he had thoroughly lost his Thor, and the flooding joy of realizing his son had a man this amazing and this committed. "Well, if he's happy with you—" He stumbled over his words and laughed softly in apology. "It's awkward, you know."

"Yeah, I know it's awkward. _Believe me_, I know it's awkward."

Llewellyn nodded in agreement, then looked up firmly. "Yes. You have my blessing."

The tension in Laxus' shoulders sank. "Thank you." He closed his mouth tightly before his voice cracked in emotion. It took him a moment to regain composure. "Don't worry about it; it's not any time soon. I just want you to know … yeah, I'm serious. Freed is not a client to me. He's not some fun fuck-buddy. He's my boyfriend," he said seriously before a small smile slipped out, "and I love him."

Llewellyn was honestly touched by the gentleness in Laxus' declaration. This was indeed a man he never got to know. _Thor_ was an act, a theatrical performance. This man before him was the reality, someone who could smile so warmly as he spoke aloud about how strongly he felt toward the one he loved. Llewellyn realized he could never compete. There was not even a competition for his heart. This thunder god's heart belonged fully to one man only.

"Got it," he said softly, fully surrendering, "and I wish the best to you. Freed is … one lucky kid," he said in happiness and deep pain.

"I'm the one who's lucky," Laxus smiled privately. "Now you, go take care of your family."

"All right. I'll get going." He pushed back his chair and stood, but he stumbled a little, still drunk. He motioned to one of the workers who knew the signal. Time to call a cab!

"Good," Laxus nodded. This man was in no condition to drive and needed a shower before he went in front of television cameras. Laxus realized he really was a pathetic mess. He stood in front of Llewellyn and yanked his tie straight.

"Oh, and um … be more cautious about where you hang out," Laxus advised as he smoothed down the moosey hair, just as he had done for Freed less than an hour ago. "Your family is getting enough bad reputation right now. Lay off the clubs, at least for a little while."

Llewellyn looked down at the shambling wreck he had become. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He felt Laxus' massive hands tugging his clothes and hair into something presentable and blushed at the attention. Meekly, he glanced up into those deep blue eyes. "It is good to see you again."

Laxus looked cold, but he smoothed down the same weird cowlick Freed had. "You'll be seeing me a lot more."

"Yeah?" he grinned.

Laxus took a step back and clarified frigidly. "With Freed!"

The hope faded again. "U-um, right." He reminded himself of his blessing, looked up firmly, and gave a business-like nod to Laxus. "Have a good day."

"Yeah, see ya."

Someone came forward to help Llewellyn stumble out, telling him the cab was already waiting. Laxus watched him go and shook his head. It was a shame, but it had to happen. It was over. Llewellyn was a gentleman. He had given his blessing and would not repeal it. It was a promise to also leave Laxus alone. No more stalking him to his work. No more pining gazes. No more attempts to touch him. It was over!

A dominatrix with long red hair strode forward with her head cocked to the side and her weary eyes gleaming. Flare had been waiting and watching ever since Laxus' phone call, mostly to make sure he kept his promise not to start a fight here in her club. Now she brought him a drink. Although it was still morning, she figured that after a confrontation like that, anyone would need a stiff drink. She set the shot glass on the table and looked at him with dole eyes.

"Well, what's that about?" she asked in amusement.

Laxus nodded to her in familiarity. "Hey, Flare." He picked up the shot glass and sniffed it. Not top-shelf whiskey, but it was free and he needed it. He tipped it back and drank the shot in one go. He groaned as it burned down, not smooth at all like his normal, but still calming. "Family issues."

"Family?" She watched as Llewellyn left and chuckled slightly at the paunchy man. "He doesn't look like you."

"My boyfriend's dad," he clarified.

"Ah, okay."

She recalled his confession on the phone that he was fucking her annoying customer's son. It did not seem like Laxus, to get involved in the family issues of his submissive. But now … boyfriend? That cute green-haired submissive who used to follow Laxus into this club must be more exclusively his than she first imagined. She eyed the blond in sluggish amusement.

"So, are you coming back?"

He jolted at the offer. "Wait, seriously?"

Her thin shoulders shrugged in a slow and syrupy movement. "We could use you."

Laxus tried to restrain his smile. "I can have my job back?"

"Sure, if you want it … _and_ if you don't disappear again!"

This was a job he actually liked, working under his own conditions, not being ordered, not having to serve anyone else. It was hardly even a job, besides the occasional electrical maintenance. After all, on his taxes he still technically was _an electrician_. "Still need a sadist?"

Flare gave that slow shrug again, weaving on her feet like a willow branch. "I'm getting too tired these days. All that whipping!" She flipped back her lengthy, flaming hair. "I could use someone for paddling. Got an exhibition coming up."

"All right. But you know my rule?"

"Yes, yes," she nodded in exasperation. "We provide the toys."

"That's right," he said firmly. The rule never changed. He was not about to use his paddles, his crop, his toys on anyone else but Freed.

"Can you provide at least one masochist? We're, um … we're a little short."

He looked concerned. "What happened?"

Flare gave an unconcerned shrug of her emaciated shoulders. "Oh, one's pregnant and can't do it anymore, and the other … took things a little too far."

Laxus grunted. It was a problem when masochists were either pregnant or pushed their limits and ended up injured. The club had plenty of volunteers, of course, but for exhibitions they needed someone well-trained and willing to be put on display. "Well, if I can convince him. My boyfriend."

Flare grinned in excitement. "Oh, that would be cute!" She had found that green-haired submissive to be so adorable, so eager to please his master. "Try to convince him, okay? It'll be in three weeks. You have time to prepare him."

Laxus gave a brief laugh, already thinking of the things he could do to Freed here in the fetish club, in front of others, where they were safe but where they could still be the kinky bastards they were by nature. "I'll have him pampered and primped."

"Mmh, sounds good," she purred, licking her lips as she saw a fellow dominant and the look they both got when plotting something particularly delightful and kinky. "Come into work, okay?"

Laxus realized something. "Yeah, can I have another week? You know, settling in. Just got back into the States." He used that as an excuse, but really he knew that Freed would be off this week as well before starting his new job. He wanted to spend the whole time together.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess that's good," Flare reasoned. "One week then. Next Monday."

"All right."

"Good." She curled her finger under his chin and smiled slyly. "See you then."

He scoffed awkwardly and brushed her hand off. "Don't try flirting, Flare." He held up his hand. On his finger was the silver promise ring he had not taken off yet since exchanging rings with Freed.

She pulled back at the ring marking him as being exclusive. "Aww. It's a shame."

She shrugged it off. There was a rule in this club. If someone wanted you to back off, you obeyed. Dominants were especially targeted in this rule. No meant no, and everyone had to respect the fact that some people were exclusive. They might do things in demonstration like Laxus used to do, but they had only one partner who could touch them.

She gave him a wave and strode back to her work. "See ya, Laxus."

"Yeah," he nodded. Laxus looked around the club. He had a job!

* * *

Freed came through the door late and tired. He saw lights were on and heard the television chattering. He momentarily worried that maybe he left things on that morning. Then he saw Laxus rush out from the living room and look at him with a worried expression that immediately turned to a smile, and was just as quickly forced back down into something close to impassive.

"Hey Freed," he greeted gruffly.

He sighed, glad to see he was still there. "Hi," he said, his voice weak.

Laxus walked forward and helped him to take off his coat and hold him steady as he removed his shoes. "You look worn out."

Freed tucked his shoes aside and loosened his tie, easily undoing one button on his shirt. "Long day."

Laxus motioned him to go on to the bedroom. Freed walked across the condo, unbuttoning his cuffs and stretching his wrists.

Meanwhile, Laxus turned off the television. He had been watching the news all day, hoping for an update, seeing interviews, one made by Freed, another by a sobered-up Llewellyn. Luckily the news seemed not all that interested anymore in some CEO's younger son having a drug problem. It was the fire across town that held their attention now, and Laxus saw Natsu was being blamed for arson. He got a call from Gray late that afternoon warning him that he and Natsu were going to _vanish _for a while. Laxus wished them luck and gave him a few contacts outside of town who could help them lay low until they could prove it was a mere accident.

It really was a crazy day all around.

As Freed reached the bedroom, he finished undoing his shirt buttons. Laxus followed soon after and sat on the bed to watch him. This was not a strip show, and Freed looked too tired to even realize he was being ogled. This was just undressing after a long, weary day.

"So, how is he?" asked Laxus.

Freed fiddled with his belt buckle and gave another sigh. "Bickslow's good. They've got him on medications." He yanked his pants down and slid out of his socks. "There's a nice lady there. White, short hair. Lisanna," he recalled. "She's taking care of him." He laughed to himself as he removed his underwear and slid into loose boxers and an old teeshirt for the night. "He looks totally smitten by her."

Laxus arched an eyebrow. "Smitten?"

"Yeah! You know, blushing when she's around—"

"Smitten?" he asked again, smirking at the old-fashion way Freed sometimes talked.

"Oh, shut up. Smitten's a word," he insisted, blushing at the teasing.

"Dude," Laxus exclaimed, shaking his head. "_Smitten_?"

"Shut up!" he laughed, leaving the bedroom to find something to drink.

It dawned on Freed belatedly, he had just changed his clothes with Laxus watching, and he had done nothing sexy. It could have been the perfect opportunity, but his brain was not in a sensual mood. Neither had Laxus done anything, no hums of approval nor jabs about how sexy he was. They were already slipping into domestic normalcy, and it was a sweet idea.

Laxus followed behind Freed, giving him space and watching his body language. They went to the kitchen, and Freed poured out some juice. Out of nowhere, Laxus stated, "He wants to bang her, huh?"

Freed jolted and almost lost his cup. "Wha-? N-no— Maybe, but…" He frowned and cried out, "Oh come on! Give the guy a chance."

Laxus shook his head in mere amusement. Hitting on the nurses: he could totally imagine Bickslow doing that. "So, she's gonna clean him up, huh?"

Freed's expression went pensive. "Yeah, hopefully," he said with a crinkle between his brows. He drank down his juice and set the cup aside. "I mean, if he _likes_ her, he might try to impress her, and hopefully he straightens up himself for her sake."

Freed looked over at a picture on the wall of the three of them: him, Evergreen, and Bickslow. They had been so inseparable as children, rarely fought like normal siblings. In a world that expected so much from them, they had each other's backs.

What did they have now?

Freed just got his degree and would be working at their father's company in a week. Evergreen graduated high school the previous year and was busy in university. Bickslow did not go straight into university. He said he needed time off to recover from the stress and to figure out what he wanted with his life.

He even went on a long trip through Europe the previous year to "find himself." It had seemed like a good idea, until he went to Amsterdam. Somehow, he got into the wrong crowd there. There was drinking, drugs, wild orgies, and scandalous pictures that luckily never made the news. After that, they heard only bad news. He passed out drunk in a public park in Munich, started a pub brawl in London, arrested for indecent exposure in Paris, was found on hallucinogens in Madrid, and finally was arrested for drug smuggling in Zurich.

Bickslow's vacation was cut short, he was forced to return back to Magnolia, and now he was stuck at home. At first it was house arrest while their father dealt with Swiss authorities, but Bickslow seemed to be content staying indoors, away from the world. Instead of _finding himself_, he was drifting further and further away, letting the drugs remove him from reality. No one had done anything about it until now. Freed felt guilty that he and Evergreen had not been right there with him, especially after the divorce. It was just him and his father now in that house, and Bickslow was alone to deal with the fallout of their parents splitting apart.

"He needs someone like that, someone who can convince him to keep going," Freed said with sadness inflected in his voice. "It's hard on him."

"How's it hard on him?" asked Laxus. From what he had seen, Bickslow loafed about, no job, no school, no worries.

Freed looked peeved that he had to explain it, but only because this was a sensitive subject to the whole family. "Well, I'm gay," he cried out.

"So?" Laxus shrugged, not seeing how that had anything to do with Bickslow's drug addiction.

"So, you know … family name being passed on, parent's bugging Bickslow, he has to get married and have babies and carry on the legacy and provide me with a nephew so that I can train my nephew to be the next CEO—"

"Oh God, are you kidding me?" Laxus shouted. "That's, like, so … 1800s!" he yelled, outraged that any parent would pressure their child for such a stupid reason.

"Yeah, well, it still happens," Freed sighed.

He understood where his parents were coming from. Tradition was a hard thing to surrender, and family businesses needed a family to pass on the legacy. Companies collapsed without that sort of stability. He still hated it, and knowing his sexual orientation put this pressure on his younger brother always made Freed feel a little guilty.

"He's under a lot of pressure, and he's _not good_ under pressure," he stressed.

Bickslow grew up carefree and happy, knowing he would not have to be bothered with the family's business. The day Freed came out as being homosexual … Freed had no idea what sort of conversation his parents must have had with Bickslow, but that had been the start of it. Suddenly, the whole _family legacy_ rested on a mere teenager, and there was a sense of urgency in finding the perfect woman who could one day be his wife.

With no warning and nearly no preparation, it was Bickslow being forced to attend débutante balls, flirty young girls practically shoved at him, and then there were those quiet urgings from their mother: "Isn't she pretty? Her family has oil fields in Texas. She would make a sweet girlfriend, one day a beautiful wife, and it would bring in money to the family." Freed had been able to ignore those pressures since he never found girls to be attractive. Bickslow must have had it worse.

Freed knew firsthand, some of those girls just wanted sex, and they were tigresses waiting to shred the poor boy's clothes off. Unlike Freed who could remain a gentleman and ease aside the most tempting promises of pleasure, Bickslow grew to like the thrill. There were scandals and rumors of a few pregnancies. Soon everyone in their upper class circle knew about him, and he was not welcome around the young daughters anymore, which made the search for a suitable wife harder. When he no longer had sex to escape reality, he replaced it with anything he could: obsessive gaming, getting tattoos, drinking, smoking pot, and finally drugs. The family was probably lucky he sated himself with sex dolls instead of taking the same path as the other men in his family and hitting up strip clubs. Llewellyn and Freed were smart enough to keep their visits a secret and knew how to avoid the media. Bickslow seemed to attract attention no matter where he went.

"He's never been good under pressure," Freed muttered, "always slipping away into his fantasy world, playing with _dolls_. He's brilliant with computers, but … I dunno," he pouted. "I wouldn't put him in a high stress job, that's for sure."

Laxus merely hummed, and once again he was thankful his family was not rich with pressures like that. He had enough pressure to take over the Fairy Tail Pub after his grandfather retired. He never once got pressure about having kids. "Well, I hope you're not stressing him out, saying he needs to give you some nephews so you can raise them to be your successor."

"No, I'm … I'm not bugging him like that," he assured, finding that amusing. Him, teaching kids? "I keep telling him don't worry about it. I mean, I didn't even have a boyfriend, and … and now I have you." It was easier on the family when his parents could pretend this whole _gay issue_ was merely a phase, teenage rebellion, and they could tell their friends that he would get over it after college. It became more _real_ when Freed let them know he was dating a man. "The pressure was on _a lot_ last year when everyone found out. I thought it…" He shook his head in anger. "I thought it'd have gone away without you around, but I guess not. Mother's been harping on him, and … it's just kinda too much."

He thought about what Bickslow had told him in the hospital. For weeks, Father kept vanishing for extended periods, sometimes for days, often coming home drunk. Mother was in France but still called every day asking Bickslow if he was trying to get out, urging him to find a girl, becoming an even more oppressive force in his life than when she lived at home. There was no one around but the servants, and most of them did not dare scold him when he wanted to slip away from reality with some cocaine, LSD, or heroin.

Laxus came up behind him and began to rub Freed's shoulders to work out the stress. "Well, you never know. Maybe he'll like that girl."

Freed leaned into him and laughed softly to himself as his body relaxed. "Heh. Yeah, maybe." He closed his eyes as Laxus' thumbs dug into his muscles. After remaining stiff and locking down his emotions for over twelve hours, it felt good to be here, knowing Laxus was supporting him. "So how'd you find my dad?" he asked curiously.

Laxus merely shrugged. "Put in a call to the right person."

"Easy as that?"

"Yeah. I got good contacts."

He muttered "Oh" and laughed privately. Sometimes, Freed imagined Laxus as some sort of super spy, knowing all the seedy underground kingpins, romping foggy alleys for secret meetings, a shadow striking at Magnolia's dark underbelly. That was silly, it was probably something simple, but he liked to think that Laxus had his own spy network.

"Where did you…? No, never mind. I probably don't want to know."

If Laxus had to use his contacts to find Llewellyn, Freed could imagine what sort of place his father had drifted off to. He had shown up at the hospital clean and groomed, but there was a glassiness to his eyes to show he had been drinking recently, and his pants hung loose. His father had not been eating well. Probably only those who really knew him would see the signs, but Freed realized right away, his father had been up to no good.

Laxus was glad Freed did not pry into the matter. It was best for the whole family if that sort of thing was quietly swept under the rug.

"Look…" Laxus stopped his shoulder massage and hugged Freed instead. "I know we had plans for today, but things came up. You look really exhausted. Let's just sleep, okay?"

Freed turned his head around and up to him. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he smiled. His poor angel looked ready to fall asleep. "I assume you ate dinner?"

"Y-yeah, me and Evergreen went out. We just needed to get out from the hospital, get away from our dad."

"That's fine. I ate. C'mon," he pulled Freed toward the bedroom. "Let's get to bed."

He still protested while being dragged by the wrist, "But, you wanted to—"

"Look, no offense," Laxus cut in, "but I'm not really in the mood, not with all of this." He paused, looked back down at him, and stroked Freed's cheek. "And I don't think you're in the mood," he said understandingly.

Freed sighed and smiled at the consideration of his own weariness. "Probably not." He wondered if he really did look as worn out as he felt.

"We can do it later. That's fine," Laxus assured him. He kissed Freed on the forehead. "Any time you're ready."

Freed felt glad that Laxus was being so considerate. "We'll see what tomorrow will bring."

Laxus had to chuckle. "Isn't that lyrics?"

"Yeah," he blushed with a meek shrug.

"Cute." He kissed Freed's forehead again. "Get to bed before I fuck you."

Freed blushed and chuckled. "Yes, Mas-…"

"Don't call me Master, or I really will!"

Freed smirked, liking that he could rile him up. "Yes, Laxus." He tiptoed and kissed him on the mouth.

Laxus gazed down adoringly. "God, I love you." He grabbed the back of Freed's head and kissed him with passion. He felt those slender hands grasp at him, but he also realized Freed's hold was weaker than his usual strength of a champion swordsman. He was tired and emotionally drained. They both were. Laxus pulled back and ordered, "Into bed!"

Freed smiled flippantly. "Alrighty."

He turned and walked to the bedroom, his long hair swaying across his butt with each step. Laxus took a moment to compose himself. Seriously, this little incubus of his was either a demon or an angel, he didn't even know anymore, but Laxus knew that he loved Freed … very much! Knowing he had Llewellyn's blessing eased his mind. When they were ready…

Whenever the time was right…

He pushed the thought aside. He turned the lights off around the condo and stepped into the bedroom to see Freed already collapsed on the pillows, his hair a green fan around the sheets, looking like he might be asleep already. Laxus turned off the light, walked over to the bed in the dark, and slid under the covers.

A part of him realized, this was the first time he and Freed would simply _sleep_ together. No sex, no kinks, not passing out in sensual exhaustion. Just sleep.

Freed rolled to his side and spooned into Laxus. The blond wrapped around him, an arm draped over his thin waist, and nuzzled into the green hair. Silently, he kissed the back of Freed's neck. He heard a hum of happiness, but nothing else. Freed truly must have been drained. In under a minute, Laxus heard him breathing heavily in sleep. He kissed Freed's hair and closed his eyes until sleep came, and with it dreams of a happy, bright, love-filled future.

**Next Chapter: Morning Preparations  
**


	32. Morning Preparations

Chapter 32

**Morning Preparations**

Laxus was having a hell of a dream. He and Freed were on a tropical beach. A warm breeze stirred the serene air, glittering waves crashed at his toes, and Freed was slowly, deliciously, sucking him off. Laxus did not even look down. He knew the feel of that hair, the silkiness of the strands, the bits on top that stuck out no matter what, and even the mouth was familiar by now. Freed's blow jobs were always so slow, methodical, and all-encompassing. He did not just thrust a dick into his mouth. He savored every vein and fold, diligently hitting every nerve that drove Laxus insane.

He moaned his lover's name while gazing up at the blue sky and swaying palm trees. It felt so good, _so damn good!_

Too good. Too good to be a mere dream.

Laxus jolted, and he realized there really was a mouth on him. Beyond the curtains, the morning sky was changing from pink to gold. How the hell did this rich boy wake up so early?

"Freed!" he cried out in a dry, groggy croak.

Turquoise eyes looked up from his groin. Those long eyelashes batted, the lips were stretched around Laxus' cock, and his cheeks were flushed with excitement. Slowly, Freed pulled back until cold air hit Laxus' inflamed skin.

"Sorry," he whispered, but he did not stop. He kissed the top of the head, then licked down. He pecked kisses from balls to tip while Laxus tensed up and moaned.

"God!" he hissed. He felt Freed sucking gently around the edge, letting his lips drag over the turgid skin. "How long have you been doing that?"

The shrug he gave did not interrupt his tasty meal. "Not long." He sucked on just the head again, languidly pulling it in and out of his mouth.

Laxus groaned, loving the sensuality, and then laughed wearily. "Little bitch," he whispered, although there was no anger, only deep love. "Come o-…" His words were cut off when Freed thrust down and Laxus felt himself hit the soft back of Freed's throat. For a moment, Laxus almost lost himself. "Come on," he sighed. "Let me wake up."

Freed hummed sensually and slowly pulled back until his mouth popped off. "I think you're awake," he teased, and he continued to bob his head up and down the shaft.

"No, I'm not. God, must be dreaming," Laxus moaned. "Ugh! S-s-seriously, I…"

He could not even speak straight, not with Freed devouring him so eagerly. Damn, this angel would be the end of him! He was not stopping at all, and Laxus was too sleepy to think. If this kept on, he would be spent and tired and probably sleep until noon.

"Freed!" he warned. "Come on. Hey!" He reached down and grabbed the side of Freed's head to stop him. Freed pulled up with sad eyes. "Hey," Laxus smiled warmly. "I like it, but…" He gave a sigh as he felt the blood swelled within his member tingling, yet he was too tired to full enjoy this. "I need coffee or … or something to wake me up."

Freed felt a sting of disappointment. He had woken up so aroused by sensual dreams, he just really wanted to suck on Laxus until he woke up. However, if Laxus said no, he had to obey. That was what a beloved slave did, after all: please their master but always obey.

"All right," he said with a sigh as he sat up on the mattress.

Laxus collapsed back onto the pillow and exhaled as he tried to convince his cock that it was not time yet. The pristine conditions of this condo were still odd to him. No cracks in the plaster, no peeling wallpaper, no spiderwebs in corners. It was like being in a hotel, almost unreal. He looked over to Freed instead. He was real, and solid, and _goddammit sexy as fuck!_ He sat in a contrite posture, as if he had been reprimanded and was awaiting punishment. As tempting as it was to scold and spank him for waking him up, Laxus could only smile, glad to know Freed loved him this much. It was not always just him ordering Freed around. He _wanted_ this.

"Look, I know…" Laxus dropped his head, almost feeling guilty for stopping his fun. "I know what you're after. We … um…"

"We had plans," Freed said softly.

Laxus' brow drooped as he heard regret. They had such big plans yesterday, too. They had both been eager for it, setting it up, easing into the idea, when life got in the way. "Yeah," he muttered. "And everything that came up yesterday … just … bad timing, is all."

"Yeah. Sorry about that."

"Hey!" he snapped. "They're your family. Family comes first. Okay? Even over me, _family_ comes first."

Freed smiled and shook his head. "Not over you—"

"Yes!" Laxus insisted. He softened his voice. "Freed."

Hearing his master call, Freed laid down and Laxus pulled him immediately up onto his chest, hugging him tenderly.

"I know how important family is to you," he said, stroking his hand through the green hair.

Freed twisted around and looked down into Laxus' face. "But not before you," he said, and his fingers caressed the chiseled jaw. "Because you're like family now."

Laxus gazed up in amazement. Like … family? Like the two of them … were … a family?

He thought about what he had discussed with Llewellyn yesterday. Maybe it was premature, asking Freed's father for his blessing. It wasn't like he planned to propose anytime soon. They were still reuniting after that long separation. Still, hearing Freed say that, thinking of him as more than just a boyfriend, more than a domestic partner … like family!

"Wow…" he whispered, slightly embarrassed as well as in awe.

Freed jolted. He had said something that bold! "Ah! I … I-I-I-I … I didn't…" But he did mean it. He did want it. Somewhere deep inside, he really wanted Laxus in a deeper, stronger way. Maybe it was not time, maybe they needed to live together for a while and see if they were even compatible, but … he wanted it! He wanted to belong to Laxus and no one else.

"It's all right," Laxus muttered, hating the heat in his cheeks. "No, r-really, I…" Shit, he was mumbling and stuttering! He took a second to firm up. "It's nice to hear that," he stated.

Freed coyly lifted his eyes. "Y-you don't mind?"

"Hell no."

Laxus smiled at Freed and laughed softly. Mind? He was a step away from running out the door and buying the first engagement ring he could find, but it was definitely too early. Instead, he pulled Freed down to him and gave him a tender kiss. The long hair draped around him, curtaining them in their own verdant world.

"I don't mind … being … _like family_."

Freed's mouth dropped and a low noise escaped his trembling lips. Like a family! Him and Laxus! As he gazed down into those electric blue eyes, felt the warmth of that broad chest, and the tender strength in those arms wrapped around him, he wanted that sort of bliss. He wanted to be greedy and have Laxus all to himself, always. A family!

Laxus suddenly felt overwhelmed. He looked away before he said anything stupid. Firmly, he rolled aside and away from Freed, gulping as his heart raced so hard, it made his whole body tingle. He sat up, facing the window and the pinkish-yellow light pouring in.

It was too soon … too soon! They needed time, needed to make sure this was right, that it would work. Like hell would he take a chance like _that_ only to discover they were not compatible. If he did this, it had to be done right. It had to be something they both wanted for sure, and both of them had to be utterly positive that this would _work_. Being together. Being … a family.

But they could act the parts for now. He could spoil his precious _husband_ and set up a home together. The idea of doing that, of living here and treating Freed as his husband, seeing if this arrangement would even work, filled him with an emotion he did not understand. It was a burning in his chest stronger than happiness, deeper than mere love. It was an ache tighter than desire, more terrifying than fear, and more powerful than mere hope. He wanted it to work out between them, he feared he would mess up and ruin it all, and he hoped—stronger than anything he had ever wanted in his life—he _hoped_ he could make a good partner for Freed.

Someday … a good husband.

It was terrifying and thrilling and made him want to laugh and cry and smile and bite his lip nervously. He shook his head as he knew he was drowning in whatever this feeling was.

"I need some coffee," he declared. He needed to escape this before he lost to it and sank into the depths of this emotional deluge.

Freed leaned back. "O-oh. Sorry."

"No, it's all right," Laxus assured him, still overwhelmed by this strange and powerful emotion. Then he noticed Freed eying the cock that was still half erect. Laxus laughed sleepily. What a horny little slave!

No, maybe not a slave anymore. Not at this moment, at least. A lover! He could be a slave another day.

"I'm not going to have sex before I pee and get some coffee down me," he said. "I wanna be awake…" He smirked over at Freed. "…so I can _fully_ enjoy this."

Freed slithered across the mattress and rubbed his hands over Laxus' broad shoulders. "I _could_ pleasure you before all that."

Seriously, how could he tame this needy boyfriend of his? "Yeah, you probably could," Laxus admitted, and he was tempted by those sensual hands, "but I don't want to piss all over you."

Freed hummed and rested his chin on Laxus' shoulder as he whispered into his ear, "Maybe I'd like that."

"Heh! Yeah, but I wouldn't."

"How do you know?" Freed asked. Then he flinched and pulled back. "Or … do I not want to know?"

Laxus frowned as he realized his past was still there to haunt him. "Client wanted a golden shower. Got hella turned on by me pissin' on his face, but I thought it was the grossest thing I'd ever witnessed. The smell in particular."

Freed pulled completely back and sat on his heels with his head down, whispering, "Oh." He shivered as he was reminded of the sorts of things Laxus used to do. He could hardly help but imagine it, some faceless old man begging, Laxus pulling his cock out, urinating on this submissive client, and probably the client moaning at the masochistic thrill. There were so many things Laxus had done with others that the two of them had never tried. It saddened him at times. Still, that was a past the dominant had given up, all for his love of Freed.

Laxus saw the shadow that passed over Freed's face. "Is that something you really want?"

He jolted up at the question. "What? N-n-n-no! I … I mean, it's not like I'd mind either way. I was just teasing you is all," he insisted. Still, the masochist in him was curious.

Laxus rubbed his chin as he thought about it. "Maybe if we were in the shower, and I don't have to smell my own piss…"

"Hey, if it's something you don't want, we won't do it." Freed paused. "Oh my God, I sound like _you_."

Laxus laughed and kissed him. "Keep sounding like that. It's sexy," he said, eying Freed up and down, "and you're gonna take my ass today, so you better get ready to ask a lot of questions to see if I'm okay with it."

"I … I-I-I know," he blushed. "I-I promise, I won't let it hurt."

Laxus' eyes narrowed. "Shut up," he grumbled petulantly. Then Laxus stretched and said flippantly, "Even if it does hurt a bit, that's something I can handle."

"No, really! You … you made my first time … incredible," Freed said, his voice fading as he turned bright red from the memories of _In a Gadda Da Vida_ playing as Laxus thrust into him for the first time. "It was so good, and I want it to be good for you." He looked at Laxus and promised, "I'll make it good."

Laxus patted his head. "Then I leave it to you … but not before I wake up."

Freed watched Laxus stand, naked and incredible in the early morning light. He stared, mesmerized by him. Then he saw Laxus reaching for a robe. He jolted as he realized Laxus would probably want to fix everything on his own. He had lived alone for so long, he was used to waking and cooking first thing.

"Let me make breakfast this time," he blurted out.

Laxus looked back around, shocked by the outburst. "Okay, if you wanna." He shrugged the robe back off. "I'll get my shower then." He began to walk across the room.

"Uh … um…"

He glanced back around at Freed. "What?"

Freed pressed his fingers together in nervousness, then suddenly folded his hands and forced them down. "N-n-nothing!"

Laxus watched as his cheeks began to flush. He chuckled softly. So incorrigible! "If we shower together, I'll fuck you against the wall."

Freed's cheeks went bright at how bluntly he put it. "Y-yeah…"

"Yeah, and you want that, don't you, little bitch!" He reached over and dragged a finger down Freed's neck. "Not yet."

The eyes that turned up to him were bashful but filled with mischievousness. "Well, what if I fuck _you_ against the wall?"

The room was silent for a few moments as Laxus gazed down, honestly shocked the F-word had even passed across those lips, let alone threatening him so seductively.

Softly, he exclaimed, "You little angel." He laughed and shook his head. He really was corrupting Freed, and he loved it! Still, he said, "I don't think so."

Freed shrugged, not too surprised by the denial. "It was worth a shot."

"Another time. I want this to be special," he said with a tender smile, "and I want it to be here, in this bed. I want it to be something good, not awkward, not wet and slipping all over the place." He cradled Freed's face with both hands. "Just us, doing something awesome."

Freed looked up at him in awe. Laxus really thought highly of this moment, held it as something precious, not just as a kink, mere role reversal. He was treating Freed's first time topping as something hallowed, and that made Freed realize how much Laxus respected him.

"Yeah," he said, unsure what else to say.

Laxus chuckled at his overwhelmed face and gave him a kiss on the forehead. Then he pulled his hands back and commanded, "Go make me breakfast."

"Y- … y-yeah," he stuttered.

"Make sure you make that coffee _strong_, okay?"

"R-right! Uh, how many scoops did you use?"

"Six."

Freed's mouth dropped slightly. "Six!"

"Well, yeah," Laxus shrugged, looking nonchalant.

"Oh wow," Freed mumbled. He was going to go through a _lot_ of coffee living with Laxus. "Okay," he said cheerfully, but as he walked toward the kitchen, he muttered to himself, "Six?"

Laxus used the bathroom and got into the shower. Now without Freed bathing with him, he realized how huge the place was. The shower was practically meant for two people to share it. He had a feeling that might have been a requirement Freed had while looking for places to live. Kinky little brat probably had stipulations like it had to be soundproof, a large bedroom for a king-sized bed, and double-occupancy shower. Hell, if he could afford it, Laxus was not going to complain.

He heard Freed step in briefly, just enough to use the toilet. He did not peek out, and Freed obediently did not step inside. He merely said the coffee was done and stepped out again. _Good boy_, thought Laxus. His slave was trained well.

When finally he stepped out in boxers and an undershirt, with a towel over his shoulders to catch any drips from his damp hair, Laxus smelled something divine: strong coffee, fresh breakfast, and the scent that was uniquely Freed's. He inhaled deeply and hummed at the aroma.

"Well, that smells good," he called out. "What'd you cook?"

Freed turned around, wearing his hair back in a ponytail and an apron. A goddamn apron! Laxus swore, if they did not already have plans, he would have taken Freed right here, slammed against the kitchen sink, maybe using a spatula to spank him for being so damn sexy this early in the morning.

He grinned at seeing Laxus fresh out of the shower. "Well, I didn't have much," he apologized, "but, um … eggs, and some sausage, there's still toast, and oatmeal."

"Oatmeal? Wow. I haven't had oatmeal in a while." He took a seat at the little breakfast nook and let out a sigh. "Ya got that coffee?"

"Yeah!" he said eagerly. "Here." He poured out a cup and brought it forward.

"Good," Laxus said, looking down and seeing that it was indeed dark and strong.

Freed then brought forward plates of food, a bowl of oatmeal, and a platter of toast, with butter and jam. Laxus spread the butter on his toast and heartily dug in. It was a seriously delicious meal. Freed had talent in the kitchen.

Freed brought his own plate over and nibbled a sausage link. He watched Laxus forking eggs into his mouth and felt a warm happiness at seeing him eat his breakfast.

"Um, Laxus?" he asked timidly, looking down at the crust of his toast.

"Yeah?" he asked with a full mouth.

"Um … a-a-about … later—"

"Do you have any sugar?" he blurted out.

Freed's throat clenched up at the interruption. "Uh … well, yeah…"

"Good. Where?"

He blinked in surprise. "Uh, the cabinet—"

"Oh, that's right. You told me yesterday." He stood up and walked back to the kitchen to fetch sugar for his coffee.

"Yeah," Freed muttered, disheartened that he had built up the nerve to ask only to get interrupted. "Um, is the coffee okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine," Laxus assured, stirring sugar in.

"Okay," he whispered. Freed was so nervous, he could not even stomach the eggs and just kept poking at the food. "Y-y-you said you … wanted to … v-videotape it, and … and, uh … I-I-I was—"

"Do you have any … salt?"

"Salt?" he asked, stunned at being interrupted yet again. He looked down and realized he had forgotten to season the eggs. "Well, I have a no-salt seasoning."

"Yeah, good enough," Laxus decided.

Freed let out a frustrated sigh, slowly rose, and fetched it. Laxus sprinkled the seasoning and some pepper on his eggs, then he began to eat those with the same gusto.

Freed watched and waited until Laxus had his mouth full of food. If he could not speak, maybe he could quickly say what he wanted to ask. Finally the moment came, a mouth full of oatmeal, no way could he interrupt now.

"I was j-…" Right as the words came out, Laxus pulled out his headphones and plopped them over his ears. Freed growled now in frustration. "Why are you putting your headphones on?" he cried out.

Laxus gulped and looked up in surprise. "I told you yesterday, I listen to music when I eat."

"Argh!" Freed cried out, and he slumped into his chair with his arms folded petulantly.

Laxus gazed at him firmly. "Eat! Enjoy your meal. You cooked it, you should enjoy it." Then he turned on some music and sat back with his coffee, staring off in relaxed contentment.

Freed had an annoyed scowl. "I wanted to talk," he grumbled, but Laxus could hear nothing, or if he did, he ignored it.

They continued to eat in silence, although Freed hardly enjoyed the flavor. Laxus said nothing as he ate, although sometimes he hummed along to the music. Freed picked up melodies here and there. Although Laxus liked classical music in the car, it seemed he listened to rock music at breakfast.

Finally Laxus swallowed the last bite of toast. He leaned back with a satisfied sigh.

"Well, that was good."

Freed looked up with dazzled eyes. "Yeah? S-so … um … it was okay?"

"Yeah. I was hungry. It was good," he answered curtly.

Freed felt pride swelling in his chest and heat in his cheeks at the praise. "I-I-I'm glad," he said, laughing softly in excitement. "I rarely get to cook breakfast like this … but, y'know, today's … special." His eyes turned up to the blond god before him. Now that they were done eating, maybe they could talk about what was to come. His heart began to race again. "I … I want to be the one … t-taking … care of … thi-…"

"I'll do the dishes," Laxus declared, bolting away from his seat, snatching up both plates in a single swoop, and taking them to the sink.

Freed was left shaking but now stunned. He was escaping again! "Uh, wh-wh-wh- … what?"

"What?" Laxus shrugged as he clattered the plates down into the drainer. He returned and grabbed the empty cups next. "You cooked; I'll do dishes."

Freed sank out of the nervousness. Seriously, what was going on here? As Laxus set the dishes in the sink—except for his coffee mug, which he put to the side—Freed rose with his fists tight in determination. "Well, I can help!"

"Fine," he shrugged.

"All right," Freed nodded.

"You should get your shower, though."

"Wh … uh … I … I w-…"

"Get your shower." The order was said in that dominating voice Laxus used when he was giving his slave an order.

Shower? Wait, was he being sent away? Why was Laxus doing all this? Was he nervous? Or was he plotting? A shower! Maybe he was planning something. Something sexy! Freed licked his lip. Maybe Laxus needed time to set up a scene. Another deliciously sensual scene! And then they were going to do it. They would make love, and although he was the giver today, Laxus would still be the one in charge.

"Okaaaay," he simpered, nibbling his bottom lip. "Will you maybe be … _joining_ me?" Maybe Laxus planned to wash him, wash all of Freed, every inch of his body, worship him in the shower, like what they had done together two nights ago. He felt a tingle in his boxers just thinking about it.

Laxus refilled his coffee cup and looked over in annoyance. "No, I already took my shower."

Shower sex fantasies: crushed!

"Fine!" Freed shouted, and he stomped off in a huff.

Laxus stirred sugar into his coffee and sipped it as he watched Freed stride away. Seriously, if he let his guard down for even a minute, this succubus in angel's disguise would ensnare him. He wanted this to be perfect, though. He wanted their bodies to be clean, prepared, food to give them energy, and coffee. Definitely coffee.

He looked down into his coffee cup. Freed somehow made it perfect despite acting so shocked by how strong Laxus liked it. Breakfast was perfect. Everything so far was like heaven. He wanted to thorough enjoy this day as Freed rose him out of Hell and showed him how to fly with angels.

He laughed with a bit of smugness and shook his head. Seriously, what was up with him? He wanted this angel like he had never wanted anything in his life, but he still liked teasing him a little, being a sadist. It seemed he could not tame that side of him.

* * *

Freed wanted to take the quickest shower possible and rush back, but then he realized that maybe this was also part of Laxus' plan. He should be clean before they had sex, after all. So he began to diligently wash every part of his body. He took special care washing his genitals. If Laxus was going to suck on him…

_No! Don't think that! Don't even imagine that!_

He heard Laxus enter. He wanted to peek out, but then he remembered earlier. When he had walked in here, he obeyed and did not step inside. Still, as he heard Laxus relieving nature—and curse him, but he began to get hard visualizing that impressive mast of manhood and how it might look doing what it did most naturally—he waited, hardly moving. Laxus seemed to be taking his time, too. Freed heard him even brushing his teeth.

Could it be Laxus was _preparing_ himself for later? Freed really wanted to peek out now, but then he realized this might be why Laxus wanted Freed to stay in the shower. Using a suppository, preparing for this moment, was probably embarrassing. He would let Laxus keep his honor and not watch him get ready.

Then suddenly he heard nothing. He had not even heard the door shut, but the steam in the shower swirled. He gave only a tiny peek, and the room was empty.

Maybe it had not been what he was thinking about at all.

Freed finished washing, toweled off, brushed down his hair, and pulled a robe around him. When he stepped out, he was hoping to see Laxus on the bed, waiting with a seductive gleam in his eyes and crooking a finger to him. Instead, he heard droning voices in the living room, followed their banal banter, and saw Laxus lazing back on the couch with a mug of coffee in his hand.

"You're watching TV again?" he cried out.

Laxus glanced back with an arched eyebrow. "I told you, I watch the news."

Freed let out a sigh of exasperation. Here he was, all riled up and nervous about this, and Laxus looked like he hardly cared. Sputtering in frustration, he shouted, "Can't you get the news later?"

"Well, yeah," he said, but raised his mug. "Still drinking my coffee."

"How many cups is that?" Freed demanded.

"Third one." Laxus took a deep sip.

"How many do you drink every day?"

He shrugged as he swallowed. "Three or four."

Freed could hardly believe him. Not just the caffeine intake—Freed was a bit sensitive to caffeine, he usually preferred tea, and a single cup of coffee was more than enough to jolt his nerves—it was the way Laxus acted, not even looking over at him, avoiding him, putting things between them: first breakfast, then the dishes, now this!

"Well, you know what?"

He stomped over, grabbed the hot mug out of Laxus' hand, almost spilling it, and slammed it down on the side table so hard, some splashed out. Then he straddled Laxus' lap and peered down at him while those blue eyes looked up in astonishment.

Freed leaned in close with a narrowed glare. "You should drink less coffee!"

He forced his lips onto Laxus' and pinned him to the couch. Laxus sat there and felt Freed's urgency, his need, his riled lust, through those desperate kisses smothering him. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around Freed and pulled him in closer. Their tongues met, and Freed's body rubbed up against him, right over his groin, undulating his hips onto Laxus' lap, getting a low groan as well as a sadistic laugh.

"About damn time," Laxus muttered against Freed's mouth.

Freed kissed him and pulled back, glaring down. "You were doing that on purpose."

Laxus had an arrogant smile. "Mm-hmm," he smirked, and he grabbed Freed's hair to pull him in for another kiss.

"You're a jerk sometimes, you know," he accused as his mouth was conquered.

That made Laxus pull back and laugh heartily. A jerk? Seriously, Freed never ceased to amuse him. "You gonna complain?"

Freed's head cocked to the side. "Maybe I should," he said, dragging a finger down and slowly separating Laxus' robe. "Maybe…" He leaned over and kissed the side of his neck. "…I should _punish_ you."

Laxus flinched as a rougher kiss nipped the tendon running along his throat. He loved that dark look in Freed's eyes. "Like to see you try," he goaded.

Freed gave just a light bite, nothing to mark him yet, and kissed over it. "Is that a dare?"

"Depends."

Freed kissed a little harder and dragged his teeth over the skin in a threat to bite again.

"Mmmh, Freed," he whispered, leaning his head back against the couch in pleasure. Fuck, he was getting hard already! Those nibbling lips were not stopped. "Not here."

"Yeah, here." He was lost in the pleasure of kissing his body, worshiping it.

"No! Not here."

He grabbed Freed's shoulders and pushed him back. Freed let out a soft cry of surprise. Then without warning, he was lifted up by the ass. Still clinging to his neck, Freed realized Laxus had stood up, hoisting him as if a full grown man like him weighed nothing. Those electric blue eyes sparked with desire, shocking and dangerous.

He growled, "In the bedroom!"

Still kissing, Laxus carried him across the condo, his hands clutching Freed's ass, feeling those arms holding onto him. He stomped across the pristine floors to the bedroom. However, he collapsed onto his back with Freed on top.

"Like this," he said, panting. (Freed actually was quite heavy.) "Now, kiss me."

He yanked Freed down by the hair, but he hardly needed to. Freed sought out his mouth and licked his lips. His hands thrust the robe apart and shoved the teeshirt up Laxus' torso, revealing the barrel chest and scarred shoulders with the black tattoos. Laxus gave Freed's lower lip a bite, and he hissed wantonly at the pain. Laxus felt Freed's body react, arching and thrusting against him, their groins rubbing together, arousals stroking each other. Already, Freed was finding a slow rhythm of frotting that would soon become much more.

"Yeah, like that," Laxus moaned.

Freed's tongue thrust in, and Laxus eagerly let him explore. Then his lips nipped along Laxus' jaw, following the sharp bone up to his ear, lapped around the shell, tugging the earlobe with his lips, and licked all the way down the neck to the collar.

"Freed!" he shivered. He suddenly grabbed those thin shoulders and pulled Freed upright. He looked seriously up at him. "Is the camera seriously a bad idea?"

It took Freed a moment to realize what he was talking about. _Videotaping!_ His cheeks instantly went hot. "W-well … i-it's not a _bad idea_—"

"Do you really hate it?" he asked seriously.

Freed saw the concern in Laxus' face. He smiled that, despite all the threats he made earlier about videotaping this, in the end Laxus always made it Freed's choice. That was how it worked in a BDSM relationship. The submissive always held the real power.

"No," he replied.

Laxus rubbed his hands up Freed's waist with a wistful expression. "I really want it."

It sounded so urgent! "Why?" he asked in concern. Was there something wrong?

Laxus laughed softly. "It's stupid."

"N-no! Really, why?" he pressed.

He reached up and caressed a strand of hair back off of Freed's shoulder. "Do you remember every detail of our first time?"

The question stunned him. Their first time! The dorm. That tiny bed. _In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida_ playing over his computer's speakers. "A- … almost?" he said uncertainly.

"Almost," Laxus repeated, sounding disappointed. "Do you remember how many times _In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida_ played through?"

Freed remembered the song—he would never forget that—but … how many times? He looked aside, feeling ashamed that he could not really recall.

"Do you remember when I drummed out the drum solo while kissing your neck?"

That was a detail Freed did not recall at all. "You did?"

"Yeah," he smiled. Granted, that was not the _first_ time they did it that day, but he remembered that playful moment, yet figured Freed would have forgotten. "Do you remember every kiss I gave you that night?"

Freed was feeling even more guilty. "N-no."

Laxus caressed his cheek, sat up, and gave Freed a kiss. He smiled at him with understanding forgiveness. "I don't either," he confessed, laughing as Freed's anguish turned to surprise. "And afterwards, it was just so unreal. I mean, that was our first time. For _both_ of us! And I kinda wish I could remember absolutely everything. An' I can't! It wasn't that long ago, but I still can't. I can't remember _everything_. Afterwards, I thought, _I really wish there was a way I could live it again, that same crazy awkwardness. _And I thought, _I wish I had recorded it_."

Freed's eyebrows lowered in sympathy. It was nice to know that day was so precious, Laxus wanted to remember everything. Now he also wished there was more to remember that day besides memories and a claim that they were no longer virgins.

"So I'm not going to make that mistake again. I'm going to record this, so months down the road, or _years_ down the road, I can watch it again." His hands ran up Freed's spread thighs. "Watch the first time … you take me!"

His hands trailed up Freed's torso, then pulled him in. His tilted his head to the side, and Freed leaned in, giving him a kiss. Laxus' fingers played through his hair, savoring how it felt, soft although still a little damp, the taste of his lips, his slightly cold fingers tracing the tattoo patterns Freed already knew by heart.

Laxus pulled back and rested their foreheads together. "It's not quite the same as our first time making love, but it's pretty damn special."

Freed choked up a little. Laxus really thought highly of this! "Yeah, it is," he agreed emotionally. He lifted his chin and gave Laxus a kiss on the forehead. "If you ever watch that video, you watch it _with me_. The other videos we made, you can watch them on your own, but … but that one. That one should be for the two of us."

Laxus' mouth dropped a little. Not only was he giving consent, but he wanted this to be something as a couple, a sex video they could watch in the future, likely to spur the two of them into action.

Seriously, Freed never ceased to surprise him. And he love him for it!

"Heh!" Laxus gave him a kiss to seal the pact. "Deal! Let me set it up."

"Okay. I'll get … things…"

"Yeah," he whispered with a dry throat.

They split apart and sat on opposite sides of the bed. Freed had to hold his hands to keep them from shaking with anticipation. They were going to do this!

Laxus felt his heart racing faster than any amount of coffee could make it go. There was a sense of fear—he knew this was going to hurt—and also anticipation. He trusted Freed above anyone else in his life, and if he dared allowed anyone to enter his body … hell, he even had a problem giving blow jobs until he realized this was Freed, and Freed would never hurt him.

Laxus glanced around his shoulder. Seeing Freed there calmed his nerves. He would be safe with Freed around.

Then the green head turned, and Freed looked around his shoulder only to realize Laxus was doing the same. In a moment of childish surprise, both twisted back ahead, hearts racing.

Laxus chuckled to himself. Seriously, he was an idiot in love. He looked around again, and this time Freed was already turned around, his curiosity piqued by the laughter. They just gazed at each other, and they knew they were going to be fine. This was a huge difference for them, but it would be okay.

Because they had each other!

**Next Chapter: Ride Atop the Storm  
**


	33. Ride Atop the Storm

Chapter 33

**Ride Atop the Storm**

Freed's heart began to pound. They were really going to do this. And record it! And later, some time down the road, watch it. Watch him giving Laxus pleasure. Watch him topping.

_Crap!_

It was both an incredibly erotic idea, and extremely humiliating. Every action he did would be recorded and probably analyzed by Laxus. Everything he said and did, they would see it again.

He wanted it, and he trembled at the pressure to make this perfect.

Freed rung his hands in nervousness. They were going to do this! First, he had to get what they needed. Lube, definitely. He walked stiffly over to the nightstand. Everything had been put away after their wild reunion two nights ago. Freed did not remember cleaning up anything, so he guessed it had been Laxus. While he was at the hospital with Bickslow, Laxus must have taken it upon himself to clean up the mess.

That … was rather sweet.

He pulled open a drawer, and sure enough there was a bottle of lube, as well as tissues and a black box. His wanking supplies, all organized.

"Uh, do you want me to use a condom?" he asked, holding up the box filled with slightly fewer than a dozen square packages.

"If you want," Laxus shrugged, trying to find the tripod to his camera.

"Well … i-i-it, um…" He laughed awkwardly. There really was no polite way to phrase it. "It makes cleaning up afterward easier." Maybe Laxus would not like the sensation of cum dripping out of his ass. Condoms made things less messy.

"Do you prefer it when I use one?"

Freed looked down at the box. They had bought it some time before Laxus left for Greece. It had been hastily ripped open one wild night. Of the dozen originally in there, now there were nine. Then Laxus took off, and the box remained untouched. When he moved, he packed the box of condoms with hopes that Laxus would come back, and eventually they would go through this whole box.

"Well, it depends," he replied awkwardly, thumbing through the square packages with heat in his cheeks. "S-sometimes … um, sometimes … I want to feel _you_ … a-and sometimes, cleaning up afterwards is really a pain."

"All right." Laxus finished getting the camera into place, walked over, and took Freed's flushed cheek into his large hand. Those turquoise eyes with their thick lashes gazed up in admiration and intimidation. "This time," he whispered lovingly, softly stroking Freed's face, "just you." Then a smirk tweaked up on his lips. "We'll bareback it!"

Freed felt like his heart just might explode!

"And next time, we'll try you sheathed, and I'll tell you which one I like."

Next … time? _Next time!_ Laxus wanted to do this more than once! Laxus wanted to try it again. With Freed on top!

"O-okay," he said breathlessly. This wasn't just some crazy whim. Laxus would let him do it again.

His brow tensed. "Are _you_ okay with this?" he asked worriedly.

Freed stuttered, "Y-y-yeah! Yeah, that … definitely."

Laxus nodded, glad they were figuring this out together. He pressed on the camera, taking a quick look to see that it was angled to the bed. He started up the video and prayed the camera had enough memory to capture this. Then he sat on the bed and looked at Freed. Those eyes were still on him, focused yet dazed in a world of his own.

Finally, Laxus snapped, "Are you just gonna stand there?"

"Oh! Um … r-right … uh … s-so we don't need these." He clumsily put the box back in the drawer. "So, some lube." That was already set next to the alarm clock. He looked at the drawer and a large box with some of their bedroom supplies. As he pulled up the lid, he saw some of the sex toys they had gotten over the months together. "You didn't want any … um … y'know…"

"Toys?" asked Laxus.

"Y-yeah." He blushed at the bluntness.

"No. Just you."

"Right," he whispered airily. Just him. Freed knew he was shaking by now. They were doing this! He … to Laxus … they were doing this!

Laxus saw the tenseness in the limber body, the shivering in his fisted hands, and how fast he was breathing. He hardly blamed Freed. He had been nervous as hell their first time.

Laxus leaned back on the pillows and stretched his arms out. "Come here," he beckoned.

Freed leaped at the order and looked around with widened, scared eyes. However, the tenderness in Laxus' face soothed him. Those arms ordered him to go over and fill them. He felt safer with someone telling him what to do. He stepped over, laid on the bed, and curled up into that protective embrace.

"Up on top," Laxus urged lightly.

Freed shifted to be on his chest, still wrapped up and safe. When he looked down, Laxus had the sort of look he got when he reassured Freed that everything was going to be fine.

"Just kiss me."

That was an order Freed hardly needed. He leaned over and kissed Laxus in thanks for easing him into this. It was new and scary, so simply knowing that Laxus was with him gave Freed courage. He smiled and hummed in delight as they shared tender kisses.

"Just keep kissing me," Laxus told him.

Freed kissed him more, kissed him deeper, rubbed his hands over Laxus' body, savored the warmth of his skin, and he began to loosen up. He shifted to straddle Laxus again, fully taking a top position.

"That's right," Laxus moaned as Freed conquered his lips. "Just keep on kissing. Make it natural."

Freed lost himself to pleasure as they made out on the bed. He grasped Laxus' shoulders and slowly thrust up against him, sliding their hips together. His lips dipped down, sucking along Laxus' neck, not caring anymore if he left little marks. Laxus aggressively grabbed his ass, pulling him closer to get more friction, and Freed felt the soft lump in the boxers growing thicker, harder, longer.

"Is the camera running?" Freed whispered as his tongue played around Laxus' ear.

"Mm-hm," he moaned. Laxus could hardly wait to see how this looked, Freed humping against him like a dog in heat.

Freed's arms went straight, pushing himself up. He looked down and saw a blush on those chiseled cheeks. "Laxus?"

"Yeah?"

Freed thought about how this began, an introvert admiring a stripper from afar. Then that fateful and humiliating lap dance, being on his knees before Laxus in the club's restroom and tucking the dollars away in his leather pants, their dark talk of the past, drinking together, a night of sensuality, then returning, going back to the club, seeking him out, the opera, hanging out together, dating, that night with _In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida_ playing as he felt Laxus enter him for the first time, building trust, increasing their love, dealing with his parents during Christmas, settling into a deeper relationship, Laxus leaving, the loneliness, and the joy of seeing him return.

It all flashed through his mind. In a few months, he had gone from a shy university student who only dreamed of being dominated, to falling in love with a man he had technically hired, and now Laxus was showing his trust by letting Freed take him.

"I love you!" he blurted out.

Laxus blinked in surprise, but then he smirked. "I love you more."

Freed chuckled. He leaned over and kissed Laxus' chest. Lips and tongue worked in unison, moving lower. A deep groan rumbled out from Laxus, more like a purr than a moan. Freed's lips moved over, and he kissed Laxus on the nipple, then let his tongue lap around it.

"Mmh … yeah … oooh yeah!" Laxus hissed as his body arched on its own. He tried to calm himself and stroked the green hair as those lips suckled him sensually. "Mmm, Freed!" He hissed in air as Freed frotted up against him slowly while lapping at his nipples, one then the other.

Freed tweaked one while kissing right over the other. Both were already tensing up. He glanced up to the pillows and saw Laxus with his eyes closed, lost in the pleasure. He kissed the nub again, then again, then pecked silly, quick kisses all around it.

Laxus laughed and looked down at him. What the hell was he doing? Playing? "Brat."

"What?" Freed said oh-so-innocently. Then with a devilish smirk, he took the tense teat between his teeth and gave a soft bite.

Laxus was caught off-guard. He arched up and moaned loudly.

"You're sensitive there," Freed teased.

"Shut up!"

Freed chuckled, and he slowly sucked Laxus' other nipple into a point, then pressed it back down with his tongue, only to coax it back up with his lips.

"God," Laxus gasped, fisting his hand into Freed's hair. He glanced down and saw Freed enjoying himself, lips over his heart, fingers tugging and lightly pinching the other side. It felt so incredible, so much stimulation all at once. "Man, how can you put up with all this?" he said in awe.

"Because you're good." Freed kissed under the pectoral, and Laxus flinched at how sensitive it was there. "You always make me want more."

He wanted Laxus to want more, to want him, to take pleasure in what he could give back after all he had done for Freed. He began to kiss further down, following the valley between taut abdominal muscles. He paused at the elastic band of Laxus' boxers and looked up.

"Can I…?" At just a light touch to his tingling erection, Laxus hissed in air. "Can I take these off?"

"Yeah," he said, shifting his hips up.

Freed tugged the underwear down Laxus' legs and dropped them off the edge of the bed. They both pulled off their robes now, throwing them aside, and Freed removed the pajama bottoms he had been wearing.

Freed sat on his heels between Laxus' spread legs and gazed up along his naked body. He was erect and already had signs of a little pre-cum that must have wiped off on the boxers.

He wanted to try to act the part, so he tried to think of things Laxus would say in this situation. He dragged his finger up the thick vein of Laxus' shaft and hummed sensually. "You're ready for me, aren't you?"

"Yeah, when you're this good," he admitted truthfully. He was so stiff, it hurt.

"Well, you'll get more attention there later. Right now…" His finger went down, skimming over the balls and across the taint. Laxus tensed up and Freed saw nearly all of his muscles cord up. "Relax," he said, pulling his hand back to ease him into this next part.

"Yeah," Laxus moaned, ashamed he had reacted so strongly. Still, he was not used to something touching him there.

Freed reached over to the nightstand and took the bottle of lube. He drizzled it onto his fingers, snapped the cap back on, and set it near him on the sheets, realizing all the covers had been kicked off the bed in their play.

"You ready?" he asked, lightly touching the rim of Laxus' hole. The blond nodded and hissed something that was a consent. "Okay."

Freed began with just one finger, going slowly, observing Laxus' face for any signs of discomfort. The blond immediately cringed up.

"Easy. Relax."

Laxus gave a sigh of frustration. Why did he feel so nervous all of a sudden? This was going to look utterly ridiculous on the camera. He forced his body to flop back and loosen up.

Freed finally got his finger in and felt something he had not expected. There was lube inside! He looked up and saw the flush as Laxus realized he had already figured it out. Indeed, when he had gone into the bathroom while Freed was showering, Laxus had prepped himself, even this much. He really did want it!

Freed stroked Laxus' cheek lovingly while his finger slid deeper inside. So long as Laxus was relaxed like this, entering was easy, and soon he realized he could even use two fingers. However, there was a problem.

"Um, Laxus?"

"Yeah?"

"I want to try something, but I want your permission."

Try something? Laxus arched an eyebrow. "All right."

Freed gave a soft sigh and looked down at his finger now lodged inside his lover's body and the contortion that put on the rest of his hand. "I'll be honest." He gave a nervous laugh. Oh man, Laxus was going to be mad! "I sprained my wrist yesterday."

Laxus jolted. "You _what_?"

"Ah, it … i-i-it wasn't much. I just … I was rushing through the halls and … a-and I kind of slid and … I … I didn't fall! I crashed into a door and … um … they treated me for a sprain. It wasn't much. I took the bandage off before I got home."

"Are you okay?" Laxus asked in deep concern.

"Yeah, but…" He shrugged and looked apologetic. "Quite honestly, this is hurting my wrist."

"Take your finger out!" he roared.

Freed muttered under his breath as he eased his hand back out of that warmth. "A-a-and I want … c-can I … use something else?"

"Like what?"

Freed looked aside in shame. Just when Laxus had said no! "L-like … the butt plug."

Laxus leaned up onto his elbow and laughed softly while shaking his head. So, that was why he had asked in the first place. It sure had seemed like a bold thing to ask earlier, but it made sense now if his wrist was sore. Laxus tucked a green strand of hair back off Freed's shamed face.

"Would that help?"

"It … it does … to me."

"Then use it."

Freed looked up in astonishment. "Are you sure it's okay?"

"Yeah," he smiled. "Yeah, I'm sure."

He loved that Freed kept asking. It was rather sweet that he was so concerned about what Laxus wanted. Was this how it felt for Freed every time Laxus asked permission? Even if he was sadistic and demanding, he always asked. He had been warned early on that in BDSM, consent was everything. Laxus had to admit, it was also really sexy.

He leaned up fully and kissed Freed. Then, gazing at his lips, Laxus leaned in again, slowly pressing his lips up against Freed's, savoring a second kiss. When he pulled back, he gave Freed a nod to show that he trusted his judgment.

"Hold on a second," Freed said breathlessly. He climbed off the bed and hurried to the drawer, yanking it out and opening the box inside. Laxus laid back on the pillows and admired the view of Freed naked and searching like a frantic squirrel.

Then Freed realized they had different butt plugs. Wait, had they really bought so many? He pulled out one, the smallest, figuring that would work best. Then he grabbed the lube, but he paused as his heart began to race so fast, he felt dizzy.

"Freed."

He almost yelped at the voice. "What?"

"Show me your wrist."

Unconsciously, he pulled it back behind him. "It's fine!"

Laxus held his hand out and said in a gentle yet firm command. "Show me your wrist."

Slowly, he pulled his arm back around and obediently placed it on the large, waiting hand.

"Where does it hurt?"

He reluctantly pointed to a spot. "Right there on the edge."

Laxus raised his hand and planted a kiss on the sore spot. Then he held the wrist with both hands, shielding it, and looked at Freed with saddened eyes.

"_Tell me_ when you're hurt," he requested. "I need to know. I don't want to hurt you worse."

"A-all right…"

"I'm serious! I could have grabbed you and done something to really hurt you. If you're injured, you've _got_ to tell me."

Freed felt foolish now for hiding it. He wanted today to be perfect. He thought he could just tough it out. Now he realized they should have worked together. "R-right. I will."

"All right," he sighed, finally releasing the injured hand. Freed took it back and cradled it with a look of guilt. Laxus chuckled and suddenly ruffled up his hair. "And you're a klutz!"

Freed cried out in protect. "I … I-I…" He looked aside and mumbled petulantly, "Shut up."

Laxus laughed. Such an adorable little angel! "Come on." He rolled onto his stomach, figuring that position would be easier. He watched as Freed picked the plug back up and drizzled it with lube. "Are you going to be okay doing that?"

"Yeah! Yeah, I'll be fine," he assured.

Laxus nodded and raised his ass up a little more. "Let's do it."

"Okay."

Freed took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He lined the pointed tip of the plug with Laxus' opening and pressed just a little.

"Ugh!"

"Is it bad?" he asked quickly.

Laxus shook his head, but then he realized his fists were clenched. "I think I'm a little … nervous." Shit, him being nervous! He needed to take control of this, calm down, and relax. He started by loosening his tight hands.

"Well then…" Freed kept the plug in place and scooted up to Laxus' head. He tugged on the chiseled features and pulled his face put from the pillows. He smiled at those blue eyes and whispered sensually, "I'll just have to kiss you until you're not."

He leaned forward and gave Laxus a kiss, then another, and then a long, slow one.

Laxus smiled as Freed kept kissing him. "I like that plan."

Freed hummed in agreement, kissing more until he felt Laxus loosening. As soon as he sensed the hip muscles relax, Freed pressed the plug in a little more.

Laxus let out a grunt as he was spread wider, but Freed quickly kissed him. He went no deeper than that, holding it there although that strained his wrist. Laxus forced himself to loosen again, and Freed pushed even farther.

That time, Laxus breathed through the discomfort, but there was no pain quite yet. Just pressure, but it was still a strange sensation.

"Is this all right?" Freed asked, never stopping with the kisses.

"Yeah," Laxus hissed. "Shit, that's good."

Freed kissed part of his neck he knew Laxus liked. It distracted him, and he pressed more. "Shit … oh shit."

Laxus grabbed Freed's head and pressed it down to his skin, showing he should do more. Freed began to suck vigorously on that spot, and at the same time he pressed the last of the butt plug in.

"Shiiiiit!" he hissed from both the spreading of the plug and the pain of the mark being raised onto his neck. Right as the plug fitted in, Freed pulled back and saw a dark pink mark speckled with blood. He had marked Laxus! Then he glanced down and saw the plug was fully in. Laxus had relaxed around the divot and was panting down into the pillows. Freed gently rubbed his lower back as he gazed down quietly.

"Laxus?" he whispered.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Slowly, he rolled around so he could look right up at Freed. He felt the pressure in his ass, but he thought it actually felt rather nice. Besides, the look of adoration and lust on Freed's face was something he wanted to stare at. "So, what else are you gonna do to me?" he asked in sensual arrogance.

Freed licked his lip and trailed his finger down Laxus' chest. "Well, I could tie you up, but you said you don't want any kinks."

He arched an eyebrow at him. "You're _not_ tying me up."

"Mmh, I could," he said playfully, stroking up and down Laxus' torso with a face like a predatory feline. "It was fun that one time, handcuffing you to the bed."

A smirk tweaked Laxus' cheek. "You little brat," he muttered, and chuckled softly. "You had to bring up _that_."

Freed grinned at the chance to tease him a little. "I think I'll just…" He kissed Laxus right over the sternum. "…enjoy…" His lips moved up and kissed his collarbone. "…what I can."

He kissed right over the love mark he had just left. Laxus tensed when his lips went there, and he grabbed Freed's shoulder, not sure if he wanted to push him away or pull him even closer. Freed looked pleased with himself at getting Laxus to react.

"Your neck is sensitive," he teased, again trying to think of things Laxus would say to him.

What would Laxus do next? Focus on the neck? No! He would attack somewhere new. Freed knew precisely where to aim. Despite—or perhaps due to—his extremely muscular chest, Laxus was intensely weak there. Freed slid down Laxus' body to that spot and whispered:

"So's right here."

His lips pulled at his nipple, and Laxus arched up in a reaction of shock.

"Shit!"

Freed chuckled mischievously and licked the area softer, letting the sensitivity tingle him. Laxus glanced down, seeing him enjoying this. That little bitch!

"Freed," he said, and he hated the moan in his voice.

Turquoise eyes flicked up at him and Freed hummed in question.

"Don't tease me too much."

Freed dropped his eyes back down to the chest and lapped the soft skin. "I like to," he hummed, sucking him and kissing the perky nub.

Shit, shit! Too sexy! "Yeah, but I might … not … be able to hold back," he said, struggling to talk as Freed became slightly more aggressive in sucking him, "and if you make me come early on video, I'll whip your ass," he threatened.

"Mmh!" Freed slid up and pressed his nose against Laxus', gazing straight into his eyes. "Then maybe I _should_."

He had to chuckle, but Laxus shook his head. "I'm serious."

"All right." He gave Laxus a kiss, then leaned up and gazed at him.

Laxus looked back at him. No slyness, no plotting, Freed was just staring. "What?" he asked, confused by the halt. Did he have something on his teeth?

Freed shrugged happily. "Nothing."

"You're just staring."

"Yeah." Freed had a relaxed smile. "I just want to look at you."

Look at him? How? Why? Freed knew what he looked like. He knew…

No, this was different. He was looking at Laxus as the man he was about to make love to, and that made a difference. Similarly, Laxus realized he was looking up at the man about to enter him, his first time being taken. Although this was what he really wanted, to have this experience with Freed, suddenly it seemed more potent.

_Holy fuck, this is too much!_

"Oh my God, this is annoying," he shouted, breaking eye contact. His heart was racing, and it made him dizzy.

Freed scoffed, "You do it to me all the time."

"I know," he snapped, but then muttered petulantly, "It's embarrassing."

Freed giggled—_Oh, shut up, you brat!—_and kept gazing down, feeling much more confident as he gazed at Laxus' face. Blue eyes slowly glanced back around and saw Freed had not changed.

"Stop just … _staring _at me," he yelled.

Freed was thoroughly amused to see Laxus reacting like this. He had been a strip dancer with people staring and ogling all the time, but this was different; they both knew it. Arrogantly, he asked, "Why?"

"Because I don't want you to _not_ be doing anything."

"Oh? And what if I stare at you … while stroking you here." He reached down and ran his hand along Laxus' erection.

The sudden touch caught him by surprise. "Ah!"

In amusement, Freed asked, "Would it be okay then?"

Laxus nodded fervently. "Yeah." Fuck, Freed's hands were awesome!

Freed smirked and stroked up more pleasure. "I can stare at you as you make these faces?"

Faces? Dammit! He really was making some erotic faces. Laxus glared up with flushed cheeks and whispered, "Fuck you."

The look Freed gave him was anything but an angel. He leaned over, pressing his body against Laxus', and his smile was that of a devil of desire.

"Other way around today," he whispered sensually.

Holy … shit! Laxus laughed at his wily incubus and reached up to caress Freed's cheek. "Yeah, I guess so."

He glanced across Freed's naked body. What a hell of a body, too! Flawless, no scars, pure refinement. He had always loved marking up that noble body, but today he wanted to lie back, admire its strength. Freed really was a strong man, although built so slight. Laxus had seen him fight with a sword, and the strength of his hands and wrists was no joking matter. He was built to be swift on his feet, and his real strength was his fast mind. That, Laxus envied! He wished he was as brilliant and well-educated, rather than a little clumsy and forgetful.

Body and mind … soul, too. Everything about Freed was incredible.

And all his!

"So, how long are you gonna leave that in my ass?"

Freed hummed with his finger pressed to his lip, thinking about it. "Until I'm done … up here." His other hand pinched a nipple and rolled it between his fingers.

Laxus tensed up and struggled to hold back a noise of pleasure. He breathed hard as Freed kept toying with his chest, knowing how sensitive it was. This brat really had learned all of his weaknesses. "Hey," he said, trying to force a laugh although his throat tightened up. "C-come on!"

"What?" Freed asked in sly amusement.

"You're just leaving me here."

"Mh, I'm playing with you."

"Yeah, but…" He looked aside with a scowl. Was Freed trying to make him beg? Like hell would he beg! Never! Not Laxus Dreyar!

Freed stopped and pulled both hands back, sitting on his heels. "Laxus?"

"What?" he grumbled in annoyance. He _wasn't_ going to beg.

"Relax," he urged. However, he did not see any change. "I'm waiting for you to _relax_," he snapped.

Laxus glared up. "Is that why you're not doing anything else?"

"Yeah," he said in emphasis. He was not about to take this to the next step with Laxus so on edge.

Laxus tried to loosen up. "It's not easy," he sighed in frustration.

Freed stroked through his blond hair. "You _need_ to relax."

He knew he did. He knew from all those times with Freed. They could not do much if Freed was tense. Then it just hurt. He let out a slow breath.

"Go ahead," he said softly.

Freed shook his head. This … was not relaxed. He saw Laxus still fisting up his hands. Seriously, this guy! He leaned over and kissed Laxus. That helped. He kissed again, licking into his mouth, and Laxus let out a gentle moan. Then Freed secretively slid his hand down and pressed on the butt plug. Instantly, Laxus' whole body clenched, only to hurt from the tightness inside of him.

Freed yanked back. "See! You need to _relax_!"

Laxus wanted to curse. Why was this a problem? Any touches at all down there made him clench up. "How do you do this?" he hissed, trying to at least loosen his ass around the plug.

Freed caressed Laxus' hair. "I think of just you, nothing else. Just you. Don't think about the camera. Don't think about anything else." He stroked slowly and soothingly over Laxus' body. "Focus on yourself and what's being done to you … by me!"

Laxus closed his eyes. Forget it all. Forget the camera and the plug in his ass and precisely what they were about to do. Forget everything except Freed. Sense nothing but Freed's hands. Feel nothing but love for Freed and desire to be with him. Focus on Freed. Just Freed.

Just … Freed.

Him and Freed.

Nothing else.

Just Freed.

"All right," he whispered, wondering if this was what they called zen meditation.

Freed physically saw the difference. Laxus' body was loosened now. When he kissed him, those lips did not forcefully kiss back. They pliantly accepted the kisses, more and more, each accepted and loose. Then Freed reached down to the plug and pressed again. For a second, Laxus tensed on instinct. Freed quickly kissed him, and Laxus' body sank again. He moved the plug only slightly, testing it out, and he felt Laxus struggling, yet forcing his body to accept the sensations.

"Is it getting better?" he asked between kisses.

"Yeah," Laxus grunted.

Freed kissed him, and his hand slid up, stroking Laxus instead. The blond's body sizzled in pleasure, and he sucked in air. Freed paused to glance down and saw an expression he knew was a silent way Laxus asked for more. He rubbed up, twisting on the head, and then thrust back down, over and over, all the time kissing him calmly. Suddenly, Laxus let out a cry, and Freed felt his muscles constrict. He shook his head to stop this, and Freed immediately pulled back.

"You all right?" he asked in worry.

"Y-yeah," Laxus strained out.

Freed smiled at the mottled pink and pale skin, the way Laxus twitched and squirmed to hold still. Then he saw something glimmer, and when he glanced down, a bead of pre-cum slithered down Laxus' shaft. Freed licked his lips and grinned lasciviously.

"Are you getting that turned on?"

Laxus glared at him. "What do you expect?" he snapped.

"Mmh, I expect you to wait for me." He used one finger to wipe up the drip and sucked the clear liquid off. Then he smirked around his finger. "Maybe, I have to _force_ you to wait." He suddenly climbed off the bed and walked around to the dresser.

Laxus felt sexually frustrated. Why was he walking away? Why was he _stopping_? "What are you getting? I said I didn't want any to- … oooh shit."

Freed pulled out a leather penis sheath and giggled at Laxus' massive eyes. When the hell had he bought that? Laxus wondered just how much Freed added to his collection while living alone, free to watch all the fetish porn he wanted.

"You're seriously gonna put that on me?" he cried out.

"Mm-hmm," he hummed.

"Is that even going to fit?" he asked. Freed was a good, average size, certainly nothing lacking, but Laxus knew his body was just too large overall.

Freed looked down at the leather sheath. "Hmm, I don't know," he admitted.

It was true that he bought this to be used on himself, but now he _really_ wanted to see Laxus wearing it. He had always loved seeing Laxus strutting on stage in those tight leather pants. Black simply looked good on him. Maybe not _good_. Badass! Now he wanted to see his thunder god's _lightning rod_ wrapped up in the black leather sheath.

Freed turned a sly smile to Laxus. "Let's try!"

The sheath had a cock ring to wrap around Laxus' balls, then the sheath covered most of his dick. It was held in place with adjustable button snaps on the ring and three velcro straps across the long sheath. Freed had really researched about various types, and he actually bought two, this one and one that worked with electrostimulation. As much as part of him would have loved to see Laxus zapped back, Freed felt that just was not something he wanted to do. It would be sweet revenge, but he was not a sadist. He would want that stimulation for himself.

For this sheath, he wanted something that was easy to take on and off, thus the snaps and velcro. It had high reviews online, at least. (He blushed as he remembered his obsession with scouring BDSM internet stores while Laxus was in Greece.)

Thanks to the snaps and easy straps, Laxus' girth fit well, although when Freed tried to wrap the cock ring on, Laxus let out a soft curse of discomfort.

"Sorry," Freed said, focused on the snaps to make sure he did not catch any skin.

"It's … fine."

If Freed wanted to do this, Laxus would let him. He would punish him _hard_ later on, but for now he figured he would let Freed have his fun. Besides, if it helped then it was worth it. Like hell would he come too soon!

He laughed as he saw all the focus in Freed's face. So diligent! "Damn," he smiled, thinking he was too adorable, trying so hard to please him.

Then suddenly Laxus felt a change. The blood in his cock was restricted. His shaft engorged, rising even more erect. His balls tingled with pleasure. Freed was not even touching him and he felt the effects.

"Oh … _damn_!" he gasped.

Freed smirked knowingly. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

Laxus stared up at the ceiling as his body felt even more alive. "Yeah," he groaned. It felt fucking amazing! He gulped and knew, this was the time. "Freed?"

He hummed, still deciding what to do next.

"I'm totally ready."

That caught Freed's attention. Laxus definitely looked relaxed and determined. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he whispered. Then he grinned at his lover. "You better!"

Freed's heart fluttered. It was time! "All right." Not wanting to disappoint Laxus, he quickly shifted downward to prepare for this. First, he took a firm hold of the butt plug. "I'll pull this out. It'll be a bit sore, but then it should feel okay."

"Yeah," Laxus nodded, knowing how this part worked from how many times he had dealt with plugs in his career.

"Stay as relaxed as you possibly can," Freed warned.

Laxus took a deep breath and let it out in a slow stream, loosening his muscles. "Okay."

Freed took hold of the grip and began to pull. As the bulbous head tried to spread him, Laxus flinched.

"Relax!" Freed snapped authoritatively.

"Y-yeah," he grumbled. He found that space again where he could focus and not tense up.

Freed tried it again, and although Laxus let out a grunt, he did not clench. The plug slid out, and Freed set it aside to be cleaned later.

"Okay, that was good," he praised. He looked down and saw lube making the small opening shiny. "Let me just feel."

Laxus muttered some sort of consent, still calm in his zone. Freed reached down and slid a finger in. This time, he fit easily. He slid a second one in, and still, although it was tight, there was no resistance.

"Oh," he chuckled, "you _are_ relaxed."

He liked this, reaching into Laxus, feeling him from the inside. There was a carnal joy to it, being this close, touching his lover both inside and out.

For Laxus, he had always had an issue with things _entering_ his body. He was secretly terrified of needles. He did not even like the tongue depressor at the doctor's office. Only Freed! Only this man! He trusted no one else with his body, no one but Freed. Those fears were far away now. It was just the two of them, and Freed was touching him _everywhere_. Laxus hummed at the feel of it, simply knowing Freed was with him and by him and inside him and … he did not really even understand it. It was just a comfort, knowing he was there, he was everywhere, like being bathed in a warm glow, a holy light, just him and Freed.

However, the feel of Freed fingering him was not enough. He needed more!

"You better do it before I tense up again," he warned.

"All right." Freed withdrew and wiped his fingers on the sheets that would need to be washed anyway. He grabbed the lube bottle still sitting on the mattress and flicked up the lid. "Put a little of this on," he said to himself.

He drizzled the thick lube onto his erection and rubbed it around. Then he helped Laxus lift his thighs to expose himself. Laxus hooked his knees over Freed's shoulders. He was panting, looking up, waiting with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. Freed smiled, so reassuring that Laxus grinned back. This was it!

Freed held the legs with loving hands, caressing his thigh muscles and kissing the light hairs on the legs. He rubbed his cheek along the leg, worshiping him, every part of him. Then, not thinking and acting purely on instinct, Freed bit Laxus' inner thigh. He got a sharp inhale and eyes wide with wonder. He saw Laxus' expression and smirked playfully. He wasn't the only one who liked to bite sometimes!

Gazing down at his waiting lover, he asked one last time, "Are you ready?"

Laxus glanced up and saw … his angel! The only man he had ever loved. Freed was the only person he trusted this much.

"Yeah," he sighed, wanting it, and only with this man.

Freed took hold of himself and angled it right at the entrance. "Okay," he whispered in warning, before pressing inside.

Laxus almost flinched. Freed was much bigger than some silicone plug. However, the pleasure was instantaneous. He feared it would hurt, tear, bleed, all the horror stories he heard about. Yet all he felt was an intense fullness. As Freed pressed more, Laxus inhaled in a hiss, but still the pleasure was far superior to the strangeness and slight discomfort of being filled so intensely.

"Does it hurt?" Freed asked as Laxus grabbed his arms and clung to him.

His heart pounded until he felt dizzy, yet the foreign sense of fullness was anything but painful. "No … no, it doesn't," he said, sounding a bit surprised. "Feels weird," he confessed, spreading his legs more to see if that would help. "Feels good."

"You like it?"

"Yeah." He gazed up. It was a strange concept, and part of his brain went, _'Holy shit, Freed is inside of me!' _He laughed and reached up to caress Freed's cheek. "How do _you_ like it? First time in an ass, right?"

"Yeah," he blushed. Freed looked down and saw their bodies conjoined. "It's … um…" He shrugged as he admitted, "It's a lot tighter than I imagined."

"Well, it's my first time."

Freed laughed—first time, seriously? "I guess so," he grinned. Laxus' first time! Losing his ass virginity. And he was the one Laxus picked to do this.

Laxus gazed up seriously. "I love you, Freed."

Freed kissed the raised thigh and rested his cheek on the inner knee while looking down happily yet deviously. "I love you more … bitch."

Laxus roared with laughter, and that helped him to loosen even more, really relaxing into this reality.

"All right," Laxus said with determination. "Go ahead. Do it."

Freed let out a slow breath. This was it! He wanted to pleasure his thunder god in every way. He slowly pulled back, watching down below, amazed by the sight of their bodies conjoined. Then he pressed back in, slowly, feeling the tightness rubbing him in a way Laxus' hands and mouth had never done before.

Laxus let out a moan, then a hiss on the thrust inward. As Freed set up a languid tempo, he got a better feel for this sensation. Being fucked! He never thought he would let anyone do this, not after the torments he went through as a child, being prodded, probed, operated on, his body violated by his own father. Not sexually, but _still!_ He never thought he could allow a person in his heart, let alone in his body.

However, he loved Freed—loved him and trusted him. He was the only person in the world whom Laxus would allow to enter his body like this.

Soft groans of pleasure echoed through the room as the smell of heated sweat grew thicker. Freed had a steady rhythm now, and Laxus was no longer flinching in discomfort. He felt only pleasure. Every time Freed slid in, his body sparked.

"Fuck," he whispered.

The better it felt, the more his cock stiffened, but the penis sheath and cock ring restrained him, almost painfully but never reaching a discomfort he could not withstand. Instead, the increasing pressure, the tightness that held him back from coming too soon, heightened the pleasure far beyond normal.

"Ah … fffffuck!" he hissed. "Shhhit!"

He breathed heavily now, hips rocking into the thrusts. It was so easy to close his eyes and surrender himself to the pleasure, but he wanted to share in this. He forced his eyes open just enough to see that lean body above him, eyes closed, long hair draping to the mattress, as his body rocked into the bed.

"Oh Freed," Laxus moaned. His angel! His goddamned sexy as hell angel! He laughed to himself at the irony of being fucked by something so perfect and pure. Weakly, he groaned. "You're not bad."

That was the closest he would allow himself to telling Freed that this was everything he wanted, everything he dreamed. From the day he decided he would let Freed fuck him, he had fantasied about how it might be, and this … this went beyond those erotic dreams.

"Oh, fuck!" he moaned again.

However, something was wrong. It was way too quiet. He was used to Freed's straining whimpers, trying so hard not to embarrass himself with outright wanton cries of pleasure, only to succumb and scream out Laxus' name. Now, Freed's eyes were closed and his mouth held in a tight, grim line.

"Hey," he whispered, reaching out to rub his upper arm. "Hey!" he called louder. "You're not making any noise. Are you enjoy this?"

"Mmh-hm." He nodded, but his mouth still had a stiff grimace.

Laxus looked concerned. "You sure?"

Freed nodded frantically, but this time his reply came out shivering. "Mh-hmm-m-mh."

Laxus' face softened. He rubbed Freed's arm soothingly. "Are you trying not to come?"

"Mnh." It was just a grunt, but Laxus now saw the strain to remain in control without cock ring or anything to hold him back.

"You're doing good," Laxus praised, proud that this man who once had issues with premature ejaculation was now struggling so hard, putting all of his lessons to use, just so he could pleasure him. Freed's head dipped down lower, and Laxus reach up to pat his head. "You're doing real good."

"Nh!" He struggled to smile, happy to hear such praise from his master, but he constantly felt like he was about to lose the battle against his cock's desire to erupt.

Laxus saw how he strained. Seeing Freed above was weird. This whole thing was wonderful, but weird. "Hey, uh … I wanna try something."

Freed paused in his thrusts and opened his eyes. "What?" he asked, exhausted and airy.

Laxus' lip curled up seductively. "I wanna ride on top of you!"

Freed blinked in astonishment. "Y-you sure?"

"Yeah," he purred, then laughed as he realized, "I just really do like looking down on you."

Freed frowned and pulled slightly away. "You don't like this, do you?"

"Oh _fuck yeah_ I do!" he exclaimed.

How dare he! How fuckin' _dare he_ suggest that all this goddamn moaning like a bitch in heat was Laxus _not_ liking it! He was ready to smack Freed's ass just for saying it.

But … not today. Today was not about stuff like that. No punishments and spankings today. This was Freed's day. So Laxus bottled down his annoyance that Freed would _dare_ suggest such a thing, and he looked back up, wishing he could show in other ways just how wrong Freed was, how _good_ he felt, how much he really did like being the one on the receiving end.

He spoke softer and caressed the thin, muscular arms. "I just wanna try it that way, too."

"O-okay," he said, a little stunned but not against it. Truth be told, he liked the idea. There was something sexy about being below, having his lover gaze down at him, something … _right_ about the thunder god being _above_, no matter what actions were happening below. "Here, roll with me."

Laxus chuckled. He said that like it was so easy, like some porn movie where the couple could roll all over the bed and not slip out.

"Can you stay in?" he challenged. Laxus knew from experience, actually keeping their bodies connected through a roll was not simple.

Freed gave a shrug and smirked. "We'll see."

The strength with which he grabbed Laxus was surprising. He had felt the firmness of the swordsman's hands before, but that was a static hold, not the power of a move about to happen. Then Freed rolled them, and again Laxus was caught off guard. He realized it halfway through the roll and grabbed tightly, spreading his legs just in time to land upright.

Holy fuck, where did Freed even _learn_ how to do that?

Luckily, the bed was wide enough to pull off the stunt. A roll like that on Freed's tiny dorm bed would have never been possible. Laxus looked around them and saw they were not even almost on the edge of the mattress. He laughed that it actually worked. Thank heaven for king-size beds!

"Well, good job. You managed to stay in."

Laxus looked down and saw the green hair slightly whipped to the side. He smoothed it down. Maybe long hair was a curse, at least when it came to acrobatic mid-sex rolls. His hands caressed the hair, and he gazed down.

Yes! This is what he liked. He loved seeing those eyes gazing up at him. He loved being the master, even as the receiver. Master could decide whatever position he wanted to take. Master did what Master wanted. Mostly, he just liked seeing his fallen angel with his green wings (hair) spread out for him. He leaned over and kissed Freed. Their lips lingered, then slowly pulled up. In both of their eyes, they saw the same thing.

Giver and receiver didn't matter. What was important was their bond as Master and Slave. That had always been their strength. Even without BDSM or expected roles, this was where they both felt most comfortable. Any occasions with Freed as the dominant master would always be just role-reversal, but this … this felt natural. Freed wanted to pleasure Laxus, to protect him, to follow him even into the depths of hell. That was where he preferred to be, beside him but never lording over him.

"All right," Laxus whispered. It was time to try this out. Freed had pulled out a little in the flip, so now Laxus lowered back down onto Freed's groin. He went down, lower, feeling that pressure deeper, even deeper inside. "Oh … fffffuck yeah!" he hissed. The position allowed such deeper penetration, and Laxus grabbed the headboard as he got used to it. He lifted his hips and slid back, feeling that pleasure far deeper. "No wonder you like riding on top. Shit!"

Freed watched him, and it was … it was … How could it be that he was a university graduate and he did not know the word? _Glorious_ did not do justice. _Heavenly_ fell short.

_Divine_ … _godly_.

Yes, it was the sight of a god, some Nordic deity who could take pleasure in a mere mortal like him. He wanted more! To give more! To worship his thunder god! After all that Laxus had given to him—from that first encounter and training him not to come too soon, to months of pleasure, happiness, comfort, moral and emotional support, a purpose, a goal, a dream—in thanks for all of that, he wanted to give him more. He wanted to spend his life spoiling this man, this _god _… his lover!

"Laxus?"

He was almost lost in the ecstasy of taking pleasure but managed an airy, "Yeah?"

Thin fingers caressed the leather penis sheath, squeezing it since he figured Laxus could not feel much, then up to the head turning maroon with arousal and tension. "Is it okay if I touch?"

Laxus glanced down and saw the desire in his face. Fuck! He closed his eyes, knowing he was weak to that erotic expression. "Don't make me come yet."

"No. Just a little bit."

Freed did not remove the sheath. He had bought this online on a total whim, thinking it could help him hold back even longer, and truth be told, he had tested it out while Laxus was in Greece, alone and imagining his blond lover there instead of some random toy. He knew how wearing the sheath felt. He had thorough tested it out, and the experience was unique. It almost hurt, yet didn't. It almost choked the cock, yet if strapped in right, there was no pain, only tightness and a lack of friction. That friction would send him over the edge, but this lessened it. The choking sensation protracted the time before climaxing. The attached cock ring also prolonged pleasure.

But the head!

It was exposed. The blood built up there. Sensitivity was heightened. Touching there was akin to the best torture available to a man.

He hardly had to touch before Laxus almost crushed his headboard with the thrilling shock.

"Oh! Shit. Shit!"

Smirking, Freed fully grabbed the sheathed shaft, stroked up to the head of the cock, and caressed the entire thing. He thought he heard the headboard crack and felt glad he opted for cast iron and not wood.

"_Shit!_"

Freed smirked, enjoying the show above him. It was like conquering a god. Seeing Laxus' mouth fall open, seeing his face pinch up and his bulky muscles tremble, was pure joy.

_He_ could do this! Only him!

But it still wasn't enough. Freed wanted to give him more.

"Hey, pull off for a minute."

Laxus stopped thrusting down onto him and looked concerned. "Why? Am I crushing you?"

"No." His eyes gleamed devilishly. "I wanna try something."

Laxus curiously pulled back. "Okay."

He was eager to know what Freed had planned. Whenever he wanted to try something on his own, Freed came up with something brilliant. Laxus liked those moments. He liked when Freed showed how much he wanted this, how much he craved him, him alone! He pulled up, sliding off the cock and immediately wanting it back inside him.

Instead, Freed got up onto his knees to be at equal height with Laxus. He took his chin and lifted it up, smirking as he gazed down on him, just enough to remind him that this was _his_ day.

Deviously, he ordered, "Get on your hands and knees."

For what seemed like a long time, Laxus stared silently at him. Dog style? Not only that. Freed … sounded _serious_. He sounded controlling. He had that aristocratic air about him once again, a steady gaze that made someone instinctively know he was in charge.

And it was hot as hell!

"You little fucker," Laxus whispered in awe, and he began to laugh. To hell with role reversal. Sometimes Laxus wondered, if Freed had fallen for a different man—fuck that idea, but just for example—would he actually be a dominant? There were times when it seemed like this was his natural role.

Perhaps that was precisely _why_ he liked to surrender control most of the time. Freed Justine naturally was a leader, bred and raised for that duty. Submission was his escape, _his_ role play. In a way, having Freed order him around gave him a glance into his lover's _real_ life, the life that existed outside of this condo.

He would have to get used to that duality: the Freed who worshiped him and the Freed whom others kowtowed to in respect.

"All right," Laxus conceded, and he shifted around to be on his hands and knees across the mattress. Haughtily, he glanced back at Freed over his shoulder and asked, "Want me call you _master_ now?"

A light smile graced his thin lips. "Not this time."

Laxus chuckled and settled in, ready to take it this way. His face turned up, and he realized he was facing the mirrored closet. The reflection was of him, and he could see Freed crawling over the sheets to angle himself. Laxus' eyes widened. He saw the flush to his face, the glisten of sweat on his skin, and his cock bound in leather.

A trembling grunt, not quite a cry nor a moan, shook out, and he dropped his head to escape that reflection.

Freed heard the tense, almost fearful noise, and he quickly paused. "What? Is something wrong?"

"No!" He relaxed himself and kept his head down. "N-no."

Freed looked at him through the reflection. Was the pain from his erection hanging down while bound up in leather? He rubbed Laxus' lower back, quietly seeing if he was okay. Laxus gave a nod but did not lift his head. Freed nudged Laxus' thighs, and he spread them to make room. Watching out for his long hair, Freed settled behind him, lined himself up, and tapped Laxus' lower back. He gave another silent nod.

"Okay," Freed said softly, and he guided his cock back inside.

Laxus hissed as that fullness returned and his body got used to this new position. It felt so different _inside_. When Freed thrust in, the curve of his cock pressed in whole new areas. Laxus clenched at the sheets, and his head stayed down.

"Hey, look up at me," Freed requested, hoping that Laxus would watch through the mirrored closet doors.

Laxus kept his head down and shook it frantically. "I don't want to."

"Why not?" he asked, but Laxus did not answer. Freed leaned over his arched spine and took Laxus' head, tilting it. "Look up at me," he commanded.

Laxus had to force his eyes up. He stared straight into those turquoise eyes. In the reflection, he could see Freed on top, see their bodies now merged.

Freed caressed Laxus' back. "See what I'm doing to you."

He grabbed Laxus hips and thrust in. Laxus tried to watch. He tried not to react. It was too much, though. He let out a moan, saw it in the mirror, and trembled at the erotic sight.

"Oh shit!"

Freed chuckled. When he saw this condo came with mirrored closet doors, he had been eager to test them out, to make love and watch what the other was doing, to see each other fall apart in ecstasy. Sure enough, Laxus was going crazy from it.

Laxus could only watch for a short time. His body began to burn. This angle stroked him in an amazing way, and Freed's thrusts were perfectly aimed. Part of his brain thought '_I expect no less from my slave._' Another part of his brain wondered if he was the one enslaved.

"Freed!" he warned, panting quicker. "You better hurry."

Freed saw a near agonizing pain in Laxus face. He was truly at his limit. It was time to send him over the edge. Determined, he gave a nod. "All right."

His thrusts were suddenly faster, stronger, slamming in as hard as he could. Laxus' whole body tensed at the power in those hips.

"Fuck!" he seethed. So close! However, when he reached to his cock, knowing he needed only a few good strokes to send him soaring, he instead found the sheath preventing that last step.

"Here, I'll get that." Freed reached around, undid the straps holding the sheath in place, and slid it completely off.

The sudden rush of blood through his cock shocked Laxus so much, he could not even scream. Something like a grunt choked off in his throat, but that was all he managed. He was done for!

"Get up on your knees," Freed said, realizing he could not stroked Laxus good enough at this angle.

Laxus pulled his upper body until he was on just his legs. "Like this?"

"Yeah."

Freed timed thrusts and strokes. Laxus' cock dripped as it could now finally release all the built-up pressure.

Then Laxus opened his eyes again. He could not really see Freed behind him. He faced the mirror straight on, seeing mostly himself, upright on his knees, with Freed's arm snaked around him, stroking a cock ready to burst.

"No!"

Freed froze. "Is it bad?"

"N-no." That reflection! "Shit." That pleasure! "Freed, I'm not gonna…"

"It's all right."

Too much!

Too good!

"Shit!"

All he heard was the blood rushing through his ears, his heart pounding, echoing in his head, and moans, deep and roaring. Even as he tried to quiet himself, that cock in his ass thrust out the noisy pleasure.

"Ah! Shit! Sh-shit."

Freed's hand was drenched. So was part of the bed. Laxus looked down and saw the splattered cum. His lungs strained, his throat felt parched from shouts mixed with heavy panting, and … and it was incredible. Damn, so wonderful!

Then he heard a soft groan. Freed was holding still for his sake, but his body was coiled and trembling. "L-Laxus?"

No way could he stay up anymore. "Here. Down like this."

He shifted, and Freed maneuvered with him, away from the moist mess. Laxus collapsed onto his stomach in exhaustion and rested his cheek on the pillow, still breathing hard. When Freed stayed put, Laxus looked around behind his shoulder.

"Keep going until your done."

Freed crawled over and settled between his thighs. "Sorry…"

"No, I'm sorry. Came too soon." He grinned back lustfully. "Come on now. Fill me up."

Freed slammed in. Over and over. He had given Laxus all the pleasure he could handle. Now it was purely his turn. He found an angle _he_ liked, a speed _he_ preferred, and he focused on his own body. All that pleasure was zeroing in on a target, and he was about to blow.

Laxus had to admit, he was almost sore now. The hormones were waning, and the thrusting felt slightly less pleasurable. Still, how many times had he kept fucking Freed long after he finished? This was only fair, and feeling his urgency was also good. He really loved knowing Freed was enjoying himself. Even after all these months, he sometimes doubted that such a sophisticated man could love some uncouth oaf like him. He feared he was imprisoning Freed out of intimidation-turned-love much like his father had done in his childhood. To know Freed did this out of his own freewill … he always loved to confirm that.

"Gonna come," Freed groaned tensely.

"Yeah, do it! God, I wanna feel you. I wanna feel you … fill me up," he urged, really wanting that now, to feel what it was like, bareback like this, that cock bursting, Freed's cum inside him, filling him. "Come on," he ordered.

"Ahh!" He slammed in and shuddered, gushing, lost, soaring on the crest of a storm. His nails tensed and dug into Laxus' lower back, leaving behind crimson scratches.

Laxus gasped softly. "Oh fuck, I can feel that. Oh … fuck!"

It was … amazing. The feeling itself was minimal. It was the mental realization that Freed was filling him up. He had made Freed come so many times now, had licked it, swallowed it, wiped it up, made Freed lick his own. Now, it was inside him. His cum … and Laxus was at a loss for words.

He felt the shivering tension in the fingers clawing at him. Freed now made short, sporadic thrusts, milking himself, and the whimpers eased into sighs. Then fingers fell, leaving behind stinging furrows. He collapsed over Laxus' body, feeling the sweatiness and the warmth of his back. His lungs burned, his throat was parched, and his body buzzed on hormones.

Laxus looked back around at him. "You all right?"

"Yeah, are you?" he asked in exhaustion.

"Oh, fuck yes." His head fell back onto the pillow again, and he whispered in satisfaction, "Fuck yes."

Freed gulped hard to moisten his throat. His hands traced up the muscular arms to the large hands. Their fingers entwined, and Laxus gave his hands a squeeze. Freed smiled to himself as he rested on the firm back muscles.

"Laxus," he sighed into his sweat-reeking skin.

He wished he could stay just like this. This was their heaven. Different religions, different pasts, different social statuses, none of that mattered. This was their perfection. A tear slipped over Freed's closed eyes. He was so happy to have found something money couldn't buy, something so many people in his social circle went their whole lives lacking.

He leaned up and kissed the back of Laxus' head, right in his damp hair. He wanted to remain here, just like this, but slowly he pulled back. Laxus groaned as the pressure vanished, then his eyes opened wide as he felt the cum dripping back out. Okay … _that_ was weird and a little disgusting.

Freed looked at him in concern. "You all right?"

"Yeah." He rolled around, and Freed curled up on his chest. Laxus grabbed him, amazed and so much in love with this man. "Hey, you aren't bad," he teased, bopping him on the nose, but his body knew the truth. The sword-wielding angel had defeated the arcane god of thunder. He laughed and hugged Freed even closer, admitting softly, "Pretty damn good."

"Yeah?" Freed asked, excited to hear he did well his first time.

"Yeah," he purred. Laxus kissed his forehead and smiled proudly.

They laid together in silence with only weary breaths and occasional moans as their bodies felt the fatigue of lovemaking. Then suddenly Freed lifting up onto an elbow and looked down at him. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Freed decided to take a chance and ask. "Why'd the mirror affect you so much?"

Laxus stared, and slowly his eyes narrowed. "Shut up."

"No, I'm just … I'm curious. Last time, too, I noticed that." During that night of never-ending pleasure, Freed had picked up on it. "When you looked in the mirror, you reacted a lot stronger."

Laxus frowned and turned his head aside stubbornly.

"Come on, why is it? I mean…" He laughed naughtily and stroked his finger down Laxus' chest, over some of the tattoos. "Is it some kink of yours?" he goaded.

"I don't know," he grumbled, fighting the blush rising to his face. Little fucker _of course_ had to notice that much. "I never had closets with mirrors or mirrors on ceilings, or…" He broke off. Freed did not need to hear about how poor Laxus had been most of his life. He had seen the old tenement and its shoddy conditions. "The closest I ever came were … the rooms … in the club. And I never looked in the mirrors."

"Oh," he said softly. The South Pole Club! He remembered the day he took Laxus into a VIP room. He never wondered before just how _often _Laxus had danced and seduced men in those rooms. That was the past though, a past long gone. He moved onward without looking back. "So why does it affect you now?"

Laxus took a slow breath and let it stream out between his lips. How could he even explain what he hardly understood? Freed would laugh when he heard. He just knew it. "Because, when I look in a mirror…" Goddammit, he was going to laugh! "I look _sexy_."

Sure enough, Freed threw back his head and laughed. He rolled off and onto his back, holding his stomach as he cackled.

"Shut up!" Still, Freed laughed and his face turned red from giggling so hard. "Hey! Don't laugh!"

He slowly calmed down and rolled back over to him. "Well, you _are_ sexy."

Laxus opened his mouth to protest, then shut it. How could he deny what was Freed's own opinion? "I nev- … I don't …" He closed his mouth again. Why did this have to be so awkward?

Freed looked supportive, at least. "What?"

In frustration, he blurted out, "I've never seen myself as being sexy."

Freed blinked. Really? _Really?_ "Are you serious?" he cried out. "My God, Laxus, you're hot! How…?" How could he even think that way? Then again, Freed definitely did not see himself as being handsome, let alone sexy. He supposed many people had a hard time accepting something like that. "What do you think you look like?"

"Like a fucking _freak_, that's what!" he boomed out.

Freed felt pushed back by the shout. Loyally, he protested, "W-well, you're not."

"I've got this scar," he yelled, pointing to his face. That was the biggest problem. So many jobs would not hire a man with a scar like that, fearing he would scare away customers, even if the scar was not his choice, just an incident in his youth. "I've got these tattoos, scars all over me…"

Scars! Scars that were not his choice, not like the tattoos. At least the tattoos were easy to hide under a shirt. He purposely did not get any that showed normally. The scars, though! How could someone even cover a scar over his face? So he went with it. He accepted Jellal's damn nickname of _Thor_, embraced the whole thunder god idea, since it made what he had thought was a hideous scar into something exotic.

Rambling, he lamented what he had heard all his life. "Too tall, too big … I'm just a … _massive freak_. That's what I was always called, especially with my attitude. People were always scared of me. Just some … big … freakish … monster! People like me to _act_ like one, like I'm just a beast: to be cold and cruel, a total sadist. I never _took pleasure_ in people," he admitted, feeling awkward to admit that, but he turned his eyes up into Freed's face and saw quiet acceptance for all of this, all these complex sides of him that he tried to hide. "Not before you," he said softer, touching Freed's face and watching as he leaned into the hand. "So seeing myself _like that_, lost in pleasure, it's … it's weird! It's totally foreign." He scoffed. How did any of this make sense? Yet Freed kept listening. "I mean, I know how I look when I'm dominating over someone. Like I said, there were the mirrors in the rooms and … and some of the … never mind."

No, he wasn't going to bring up clients, not today. Some of them had mirrors, had kinks for using them, the voyeuristic pleasure of seeing themselves reduced to shit. Laxus knew what he looked like being that beast they wanted.

"But … I've never seen how I look … being on the receiving end, being the one _taking_ pleasure."

Never had he taken pleasure in those clients. Not once. It had been a job, fulfilling to his need to be a sadist, but never sexually gratifying. He never got hard. He never felt the way he did with Freed, to the point where he began to wonder if he was asexual. Maybe he just did not have a typical sex drive.

Then this man came along, turquoise eyes in a dark club room, intriguing but that was all. Until he got to know him. Until he had a chance to fall for him. And he fell hard! Fast and hard and … love was right there, right on the other side, something new and scary to him. With love came actual pleasure, desire, everything he thought he lacked: maybe it had all been stolen from him along with his childhood and his innocence.

"Y'know, it's not even a matter of me being on the bottom or even being on top. Both times I saw you in the mirror—I saw _us_ in the mirror—I saw how we look as a couple, and how I look … _taking pleasure_ in you. Fuck," he sighed, gazing up, not even sure what happened in those moment, only knowing it had been intense. "I guess it just really affects me. Kinda reinforces the fact that … that I actually am … taking pleasure in this."

Freed smirked. "Maybe we should put mirrors on the ceiling."

A weary chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Screw you."

Freed giggled and drew lazy pictures over Laxus' chest, licking his lips with a mischievous smile. "I wonder how you would look—how you'd react—on your back, staring up at the mirror, with me on top." Freed pretended like he was about to crawl right back up on him. "And you'd have to watch how you look … as I slam you down into the mattress!"

Laxus laughed at his devilish angel. "Fuck you!"

He grabbed Freed and flipped him over, rolling on top, pinning his hands down, and then tickling him.

"Ah!" Freed shrieked. "Hey! Hey, no!"

Laxus laughed and tortured him just a little more, tickling his ribs, his arm pits, his belly, his inner thigh, getting out shrill screams of laughter. Freed squirmed, shielded himself, but there was no way he was stronger than Laxus. He gasped and screamed laughs, while Laxus had a sadistic grin as he kept tickling.

"Ahh! Okay, okay…" he cried out in surrender.

Laxus stopped and released him. Freed curled in, still laughing, his face flushed, all smiles, tears pouring down, his body twitching, lungs gasping.

_'God, he's incredible!'_

Freed calmed himself and looked up. He saw the depth of emotion in those eyes.

Some moments were too sacred for words.

Laxus grabbed both of Freed's cheeks and kissed him ravenously. Those lean arms instantly wrapped around him, and Freed yanked Laxus down to him, clawing his back possessively. They rolled again, wrapped in each others arms, until Freed landed on top. His hair curtained down, and Laxus ran his fingers through it. He clutched at Freed's waist, almost wanting him again, right now. His body said otherwise.

They pulled back, breaths hard, hearts pounding, and stared at each other in silence.

Laxus grabbed Freed's hand, wrapping it in both of his own. There were a million things he wanted to say in that moment, but only three words were truly needed.

With all the ardency in his heart, he declared, "I love you."

Freed's free hand wrapped over Laxus' thick fingers, tightening their bonding grip. "I love you, too."

Hearing those words, knowing Freed would never lie, knowing his heart belonged to him … "Damn!" he whispered in amazement. He laughed softly and shook his head.

"What?" Freed asked in confusion.

He kept on shaking his head. "Nothing. It's weird."

"Tell me," Freed urged, stroking over Laxus' hands. "What are you thinking right now?"

He looked up. He wanted to express just how serious—how goddamn fucking _serious—_he was. "I have never … been in love … with _anyone_…" Shit! Tears? Goddammit, he was crying now! He scoffed and looked away, but he could not stop saying the words. "…as much as I am with you right now, right at this moment." He sniffed, blinked his eyes, but they were still wet. He let go of Freed's hand and wiped them aside. "And that's terrifying," he confessed, shivering and hating that there were even more tears. "What if this is as good as it's gonna get?" he cried out. He wiped the tears some more and shook his head with a pathetic laugh. So stupid, he knew, but still… "What if it's never quite like this again?"

"Laxus!" Freed admonished.

There was annoyance in the blond's face as those tears he could no longer hide streamed down. Still, if Freed ever wondered about those emotions Laxus preferred to hide away, he saw them pouring out now. Hearing that declaration of love made him sigh in happiness.

Such an awkward man! Seriously, what would Laxus do without him?

He took the edge of a sheet, yanked it up, and dabbed Laxus' face dry. Then he leaned over and kissed the moist cheeks.

"This is just the beginning," he said, filled with optimism, "and every day, it's going to get better."

That sounded wonderful to Laxus, but still, "I don't see how I can love you any _more_."

Their noses rubbed together, and Freed gazed down loyally. "Back when we first started off, the first time you said you loved me, did you think you could love me more than in that moment?"

"No," he admitted.

"Same with right now."

He smiled and nodded. "I guess you're right. But I really can't imagine it." His hands strayed through the long hair. "It's like you keep making my heart get bigger and bigger, and every time I feel like it's going to explode, you just smile, and it gets even bigger."

Not exactly poetic, but that came damn close for someone like Laxus. "Well…" He leaned over and kissed the left side of his chest. "…I would want this heart…" He kissed again. "…to explode, or get broken, or hurt, or feel anything other than love."

Laxus gazed up at him. No wonder he preferred looking down on Freed. When he looked up at him, he really did feel like he was gazing at an angel, and damn him but it was _intimidating_.

"Why did it take us so long to find each other?" he whispered in awe.

Freed gave a light shrug. "Good things come to those who wait?"

That obvious answer made him smile. "Yeah, I guess so."

They kissed more, lost in this moment of love. Freed laid back down on top of him, and Laxus wrapped him up in his arms, cradling him. He stroked Freed's sweaty skin just to remind himself that this was _real_. He kept kissing Freed's hair, and the tickle on his lips made him smile like a fool.

Then he muttered sleepily, "That damn camera's recording all this bullshit I'm saying."

Freed smiled and let his fingers brush over Laxus' skin. "This _bullshit_ is the part _I _want to keep."

Of course he would! "Fine, but I probably should turn it off before you fall asleep on top of me."

Freed groaned like a spoiled child and snuggled closer. "That means you have to get up, huh?"

"Yeah." Way too adorable!

Freed took his time rolling off with an unpleased, "All right."

Laxus shook his head, deciding he would tolerate such bratty behavior only because it was too damn cute. He began to sit up, but a sting shot over his asshole.

"Arrgh!"

Freed sat up instantly. "You all right?"

"Yeah," he groaned, about to reach back to rub it out, but realizing he probably still had cum on his ass. He shifted some more again, but it was the same sort of discomfort as if he just took the biggest dump of his life. "Damn, how do you put up with this?"

Freed knew the pain he was going through, and he stroked back the blond hair. "Because I love you."

That answer stunned him at first, but then Laxus patted his cheek in approval. "Yeah, I guess so. You've gotta really love a person to put up with this."

"Is it that painful?" he asked in worry.

"Nah. Actually, it's not. Just a little sore." When he shifted his body again, it was much less of a burn. He smiled over at Freed and said seductively, "You made it good."

His eyes sparkled. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, and gave Freed a kiss. "Really damn good." He gave another lingering kiss while caressing down his flowing hair. That was a good way to end their video. "All right, turn that off." He rose with a long, low groan, walked over to the camera, and sighed in relief to see it still running. He ended the recording and turned off the camera. "Are we doing anything else today?"

"No."

"Good." He collapsed back onto the springy mattress and sprawled out. "I'm staying in bed."

"Not all day," Freed scolded.

"Yep. The whole damn day. Gotta recover from you."

Freed laughed and mocked, "Come on, that was just once."

Just once? "You're right," he muttered to himself. "That was just once." He rolled over and stroked his hand over Freed's naked shoulders. "How'd you put up with it?"

"Huh?"

"That night when I took you over and over again, how the hell did you put up with it?"

His cheeks flushed at memories of their rather virile reunion. "Best night of my life."

He said that, but Laxus knew that if he felt this weak and battered after just _once_, Freed's stamina must be astronomical. "Huh," he said in amusement, respecting him in a whole new way. "You'll have to teach me."

Freed hummed and tapped a finger to his lip as if thinking about it. "Maybe I will," he said flippantly.

"Shut up!" he laughed, grabbing him and yanking him into his arms. He kissed Freed and stared straight at him. "Love ya."

Freed sighed and settled down. "Love you, too."

Laxus grinned with his eyes closed. He did not honestly think he would fall asleep.

Yet in seconds, he was out cold.

As Freed heard that barrel chest rumbling with snores, he smiled happily to himself. He had pleased his thunder god once again. Satisfied with his work, he closed his eyes, let out a sigh, and drifted off in weariness.

**Next Chapter: An Angel or a Devil  
**


	34. An Angel or a Devil

Chapter 34

**An Angel or a Devil  
**

Freed felt like he was crawling back into consciousness. The haze of a sweet dream melted away, and he felt warmth beside him. This was only the third time since Laxus returned that he actually woke up beside his lover, yet already the weight on the mattress felt familiar, comfortable, normal, like he had always slept by his side, they had always lived together like this, and this was the most normal way to wake up.

He scratched at his head, ruffling up the cowlicks that liked to stick out at the worst times. Fatigue still tugging on his body, yet he rolled around. Despite the summer afternoon heat and a lingering humidity of sex, Laxus had rolled the blankets around him and looked quite comfortable as a drooling burrito. Freed put a hand to his mouth to stifle the laugh so he would not wake him. He reached over, grabbed his phone, turned on the camera, and pulled his arms way out, angling it to get both himself and his sleeping boyfriend. Laxus got his kinky sex tape; Freed snapped his after-sex selfie.

Ooh, Laxus would spank his ass if he ever found out about this!

Giggling to himself, he texted the picture to Loke with the comment: **What a cutie, no? Guess who topped! :P  
**

Seconds later, the phone pinged. Loke had written back in all caps: **OMG WHOA DUDE U R LIKE TOTALLY NOT A VIRGIN ANYMORE! O.o**

Freed almost did not stop his laugh in time. Totally not a virgin? He hadn't been for months! Then again, there were many types of virginity, or so he had learned while reading some random online article about modern concepts of sexuality. He simply lost one type of virginity: someone who had never penetrated another person before. Thinking about it that way made him blush.

The phone pinged again. **Kiss him awake. Kiss your pretty blond daddy.**

Kiss him, huh? He also thought to himself, Laxus wasn't his _daddy_; he was his _master_. He texted back: **I'll try that. See you at work Monday.**

Ping! **Details, man, details!**

Text! **You wish.**

Ping! **Prude! Maybe I'll ask him myself.**

Text! **He'd probably show you the sex tape.**

Ping! **WHAAAAAAAAT?!**

Freed stifled a laugh, set the phone on silent, and placed it on the charger, ignoring anything else Loke had to say. Then he rolled back around to Laxus. Slowly, trying not to shift the bed, he scooted up closer. Laxus' mouth hung open with slow, heavy breathing, not quite snores, and a little drool moistening the pillow under him. Cautiously, Freed leaned over and let his lips rest on the neck, right over a royal purple hickey. His mark!

A sharp snort sucked in, Laxus' mouth closed, yet he did not move. He was sleeping, mostly. He saw dreams, but he felt kisses. His dream turned into kissing. What was dream now, and what was real?

He was too sleepy to sort things out. As more kisses tickled his neck and down to the collar bone, a lazy smile spread over his face. He was on the cusp of reality, but if this was only a dream, he wanted to keep sleeping. He felt the lips move closer up again, and his eyes fluttered open. He saw the turquoise gleam in the afternoon sun pouring through the curtains.

"Mmmh, mornin'," he muttered.

Freed smiled down silently. He was waiting, and Laxus knew he needed a command, even a silent one. So he wrapped his arms around the thin shoulders and pulled Freed down for another kiss. Laxus growled a soft purr this time, savoring the warmth of those lips.

"Y'okay?" he asked between kisses.

"Mmm-hmm," Freed replied, just wanting to enjoy Laxus' sleepy sensuality. Finally, he managed one syllable. "You?"

Laxus pulled Freed up to gaze at him. He looked so drowsy, green bed hair sticking out, eyes lazy but gazing down at him with desire. "I feel incredible," he whispered with an awestruck smile.

Freed looked placidly happy. He sat back on his heels and yawned, stretching high above his head and bowing back his spine. Laxus' eyebrow hitched, gazing at the pale skin, the slender chest, taut abs, and the simple beauty of his naked, unaroused body. It was not Freed the angel, or even Freed the incubus. It was just sleepy Freed Justine.

"You're gorgeous," Laxus muttered in awe.

Freed froze mid-stretch and looked down with wide, stunned eyes. Belatedly, Laxus realized he said that out loud.

"Shit," he gasped. He could not take it back, and there was no reason to apologize for saying it. All he could do was admit it slipped out without him realizing it.

Freed slumped out of the stretch and chuckled softly. "You're not so bad looking yourself, y'know."

"Shut up," he smirked.

Freed laid down again and curled against Laxus.

"Ya wanna get up yet?"

"Nuh-uh," Freed muttered, eyes closed and ready to drift off again.

"You were the one who said we couldn't spend all day in bed."

"Mmh … changed my mind," he mumbled.

"Brat," Laxus laughed, and he kissed the top of Freed's head.

For a while, Laxus thought Freed must have drifted back off to sleep. He was motionless and silent. He did not want to move and chance waking him, so he just laid there, despite an arm going to sleep.

Then Freed shifted, raised up on an elbow, and looked down at Laxus with those same drowsy eyes. He leaned over and kissed the rough lips. Laxus smiled, but then the lips pressed again, firmer, lasting longer. A tongue slid out and licked his mouth, and he met Freed's kiss, dueling tongues, hands groping in the chiaroscuro light. Laxus thought this was just an adorable wakeup kiss, but Freed was not stopping. If anything, his touches were getting stronger, touching the areas he knew were weak.

"Freed," he warned through the shower of kisses. "If you keep this up—"

"Shh," he hushed, kissing him insistently.

He groaned as Freed scratched softly down his chest. "Do you want more?"

"Are you up for it?" he asked.

"Fuck, I will be if you keep doing this. Let me up first. I never shit your cum out."

Freed pulled back, and Laxus dashed to the bathroom, used it, cleaned up, and stumbled back out to the bedroom. He collapsed into bed and rolled on top of Freed.

"My turn," he insisted.

Freed folded his knees up, showing his submission. Damn little sex kitten!

"It won't be rough," Laxus apologized, grabbing the lube still sitting on the nearby nightstand. "Too sleepy for rough."

"Mmh, I'll make due," Freed smiled playfully.

Laxus shook his head. Sexy bitch! Horny vixen! There were so many insults he could throw at Freed, but none were truly right. He was simply an incredible man with insatiable desires.

"No prep. Just go for it," Freed urged.

Laxus nodded, lubed his cock, and eased it slowly inside. Freed groaned with a shudder, and Laxus grunted softly at the tightness.

"You open up so easily for me. Fuck! How do you do it?" he asked in awe, recalling how long it took him to loosen up.

"Want it," Freed moaned, surrendering himself. "I want you in me. Want it so much."

"Shit!"

Laxus went slowly. It lasted, he wasn't sure how long, but it felt like the rest of the day passed away and still they were together, slow and steady, building up, easing off, pausing to kiss, to stare, to pull back unfinished, cuddle and caress, and then starting up again. They dragged it out, much like that first night together. Laxus kept taking him, but then stopping when either one got tired and softened up again. Then a rest, and more, maybe wilder, maybe slower. It was simply lovemaking. Even without a climax, it was filled with passion, love, and tenderness.

At one point, Laxus felt the tension easing once again, his arousal withered, and he pulled back, kissing Freed instead.

"Laxus," Freed muttered. "Tired."

He smiled and rolled over next to him. "We can put it on hold."

"But you didn't … you know," he muttered, blushing.

"Neither did you. That's fine," he assured, kissing him. "Sex isn't just about blowing your load. Besides, this way, if we want more after dinner, we can."

"Dinner?" he asked.

"We slept through lunch, silly."

"Oh," he muttered, not awake enough to let it register. "Is it dinnertime?"

Laxus glanced at the clock. "A little after four."

"Oh. Late lunch? I can make sandwiches."

Laxus kissed his forehead. "Sounds good."

They both sat up and scratched out the hair stiff from sweat. Then Freed stood first and held his hand out to Laxus, offering to help him up.

Although annoyed that someone thought he needed _help_, Laxus knew this was just the gentleman side to Freed, an instinct after so many years. He took the slender hand, and it yanked him up with powerful ease.

They showered together without much more than teasing kisses as they scrubbed one another's bodies and pointed out the marks left behind. As they dried off, Laxus suddenly wrapped his towel around Freed, yanked him in, and kissed him with their naked bodies pressed together. That was all, though. He simply loved seeing Freed like this, and the domestic simplicity really made every action incredible to him.

They spent the rest of the day lounging in robes and slippers, making sandwiches, watching some television, and cuddling on the couch for a movie. Finally, Freed got up and went into the kitchen to cook dinner. Laxus sat at the table sipping a soda and watching him cook. Freed had a flare about cooking, plus it was amusing to see him with his hair tied back and wearing an apron.

"Oh hey," Laxus called over, "I got good news."

"Oh?" he asked, focused on keeping a wok of vegetables and rice going before anything burned.

"I got my old job back."

Freed almost dropped the spatula and looked around sharply. Old job? There was no way he meant the South Pole Club. That was long past, and he sounded happy about this news. The fetish club! Laxus had been working there and liking it just before leaving for Greece.

"At the club?" he asked.

"Yeah," he grinned.

Freed spun back around and focused on the food.

Laxus hesitated with the soda almost to his lips. He slowly lowered it and looked worried. "Is that okay?"

"You like working there, don't you?" he answered back.

That wasn't an _I'm okay with this choice_ sort of response. "Look, if you don't like it—"

"No, no!" he cried out, and he flashed a grin back. "It's okay."

Liar! He should warn Freed never to play Poker. "You don't like it, do you?"

He wanted to say he was fine. Instead, he turned off the stove and removed his apron. He turned around with arms folded and admitted, "I'm always just a little worried."

"Freed, seriously, you have _nothing_ to worry about." Like hell would he ever cheat! The fetish club was different from that strip dancing place. It was all about consent there. No one forced him to do anything.

"I'm a bit more worried about _other people_ trying to get at you, not you getting at other people."

Freed was worried for him?

For _him_?

Who was the dominant here? Who was the sadist? Who was the biggest _electrician _in the whole goddamn club?

Still, it was sweet to hear him acting like some sort of protective bodyguard. He walked up to Freed and cupped his face, feeling him lean into his hand like a cat wanting to be petted.

"You still have nothing to worry about."

"Yeah…" He glanced up deviously. "…because you're a freakish monster, right?"

"Damn straight I am!"

Freed laughed, wrapped his arms around Laxus, and pulled him in closer by the hips. "You're _my_ monster!"

Laxus hummed, so tempted to take him right here in the kitchen with the food still sizzling in the wok. Damn, so tempting! Instead, his little incubus would have to wait. Laxus had a sly grin. It was punishment time, and he was ready to embarrass Freed.

In a slick voice, he threatened, "I volunteered you for something."

Freed had been expecting a little pre-dinner foreplay, so those words shocked him. "W-what?" Volunteered? At the club? _Him?_

"Yeah," he purred, savoring the massive eyes filled with alarm. "I want all those bitches in there to know you're _mine_. I volunteered you."

He stuttered out gibberish and backed away.

"All you've gotta do is obey me…" Then he deviously added, "…and moan like a bitch."

Freed yanked back hard, beyond just embarrassed. He looked petrified.

"Is that okay?" Laxus asked quickly.

"In front of everyone?" he cried out.

Here was the fun part, and Laxus just knew this would shock him. He was even a little proud as he told Freed, "For an exhibition."

"Wh- … ex- …" Freed saw just how excited he looked, but there was one problem. One _dead serious_ problem. He was Freed-frigging-Justine! "What if it's people my family know?"

People … his family…?

Shit.

Laxus too often forgot that, as the son of a famous CEO, Freed was a bit of a celebrity. He had been on the evening news just yesterday, giving a public statement about Bickslow's drug overdose! With his dashing looks and flowing green hair, Freed was not exactly just another man. He stood out. If people the Justines knew found out the CEO's son was put on display at a fetish exhibition…

"That would be a problem," Laxus said with a tightened brow.

"Yeah," Freed cried out, shocked he had not even thought about that issue, or thought about asking him first, or even discussing if something like this was what he might want. Kink in the bedroom was one thing. Simply sitting in a fetish club was dangerous enough. Actually being on display, and for a large event, was insane.

Laxus pulled back, angry at himself for not thinking this through. This was something they should have talked about first. He far overstepped his role as the master in this relationship. He needed to make this better. The easy way was simply to cancel, but he had spent a day thinking about this event. He really wanted to do it. He wanted Freed to enjoy it, and he just _knew_ he would once he was up on that stage.

"I'll ask Flare," he decided. "She'll have an RSVP list, and if you recognize even _one name_ on that list, we'll call it off."

Freed bit on his lip. "But … you really want me to do that, huh?"

Laxus stepped back up to him and grabbed his face with both hands, holding it possessively. "I've been wanting to show you off like that for a _long_ time."

Freed's heart beat wildly, and the danger of being publicly discovered added to the thrill. He chuckled and asked slyly, "What would you be doing?"

Laxus liked the nervous excitement he showed now. Yes, this was the reaction he wanted to see! "Paddling you."

Freed groaned and sucked in air. "In front of everyone?"

"Yeah," he growled. He reached around and grabbed Freed's ass hard enough to give him pain.

Freed gasped at the possessive hold to his butt … a butt Laxus wanted to beat … in public … in front of others … showing him off … claiming him publicly. He began to breathe heavily and gulped to moisten his throat. Laxus was kneading his ass now, and the tension built in Freed's body.

"We, uh … we'd probably have to … plan something, huh?"

Laxus did not stop groping at those firm butt cheeks. "Usually, yeah," he answered, watching the hitches in Freed's throat.

"And get practice?"

He gave a low chuckle. "Lots of practice."

Despite himself, a moan broke free, and Freed felt his cock tense up with pulsing throbs.

"You like the idea," Laxus stated slyly.

"Yeah," he admitted, trembling slightly and dropping his gaze. "Yeah, I do."

Laxus let go of his ass and cupped Freed's flushed cheeks, gently forcing his face up. "You wanna do it?" he asked in a low, dominating tone.

His eyes locked into that electric blue gaze, and he forced his breathing to calm just enough to answer. "Yes, master."

Master!

He remembered the first time Freed called him that.

He remembered the first time he screamed at a client not to call him master ever again, because he had already decided Freed would be his one and only slave.

He remembered punching Llewellyn hard enough to break his nose for calling him master.

"Fucking hell, I love you!" he exclaimed in a soft, ardent sneer. However, he chuckled it off, released Freed's cheeks, and turned away from him. "I'll get that list," he called back. "You look over it. _One name_ looks familiar, we'll call it off."

He gulped hard, wishing Laxus would have _done_ something. "Yeah … yeah," he said absently. Sometimes he hated when Laxus left him unfulfilled, but that usually meant more to come later. Mischief showed through his gleaming eyes as he smirked. "I hope it's no one I know."

Laxus heard the deviousness and spun back around. Holy…

That was no angel smirking by the stove. It was a devil! A devil of lust! With Freed's cowlicks sticking out slightly like demon horns, there was no question anymore. Laxus had snagged himself an incubus in the disguise of an angel.

"I hope not either," he said in amusement, "because now I can't wait."

Freed let out a moan, sensual and lusty, and when Laxus glanced down he saw the bulge in the pants.

"Damn!" he exclaimed. He rushed back, grabbed Freed, and hugged him tightly in happiness. "Ah, damn," he whispered, wondering how the hell he ever got lucky enough to get a man like this.

When Freed looked up at him with those same carnal eyes, Laxus knew he was a defeated man. He sank to his knees before this sensual devil, his very own dark prince. Commanded silently by that gaze, he pulled down Freed's zipper, eased out his erection, and decided to take a little _dessert_ before dinner.

**Next Chapter: I've Got You Under My Skin**

* * *

_A/N: I'll admit, the selfie was Laxybutt's idea and inspired by insanely adorable Tumblr fan art. (I got permission to steal...ahem...**borrow** the idea.)  
_

_laxybutt =dot= tumblr =dot= com/post/129632336538/fraxus-morning-selfie-yay-i-had-and-have-some_

_I haven't posted this yet, but there actually is an audio for the past 3 chapters. It's split in two due to uploading trouble, and this chapter added some stuff, but it's rather popular, considering how many people listened to it before I ever posted Chapters 32-34.  
_

_#1 - chirb -dot- it/6rfsrn  
#2 - chirb -dot- it/Jnq7LF_


	35. I've Got You Under My Skin

Chapter 35

**I've Got You Under My Skin**

Before either one realized it, a week had passed. They spent the time together, sometimes going out, but mostly staying in and lavishing one another with attention.

Yet Monday dawned with the alarm clock blaring. Laxus simply rolled over, wrapping himself in his blankets more, while Freed rose with a stretch and immediately headed to the bathroom to shower.

As the shower ran and he heard Freed humming a song, Laxus shuffled slowly out of bed. Goddamn _too early_ in the morning, but there was no way he was sleeping through Freed's first day of work. He stumbled groggily into the kitchen. Coffee! He got a pot brewing, then went to the bathroom to be undated by the smell of Freed's peppermint shampoo and that musical humming. He rarely heard Freed actually sing, but he sure did like to hum.

"Want me to make you breakfast?" he asked gruffly.

The humming stopped. "Oh! You don't have to. I should have time to cook something quickly."

"Screw that. I'll make ya something. Need a lunch, too?"

This time Freed laughed. "I'm the CEO's son. I think it'd look bad if I brought a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in a brown bag." Freed peeked out from behind the shower. "I'll likely go out somewhere with my father since it's the first day on the job. Thank you, though. That's … really thoughtful."

Laxus walked forward and kissed Freed's drenched face. "Just tryin' to figure out my role in this."

Freed blushed and hid back away in the shower. His … role? These little domestic things were still a bit surreal. Just a few months ago…

He covered his cheeks, thinking about how lucky he was, to have gone from a lonely man thinking he would never find love, not with his peculiar needs, to now living with a man he thought was way too perfect for him.

When Freed finally stepped out toweling his hair, he smelled coffee and eggs. Laxus had breakfast completely set up. Freed let his hair air-dry while he sat in his robe in the dining room and ate a nice breakfast with Laxus. They did not speak much, but Freed realized Laxus was staring as if ready to devour him. He worried slightly that he might try something kinky before he had to go, but Laxus seemed to realize this was not the time. This was an important day for Freed.

After eating, Laxus dealt with the dishes while Freed brushed out his hair and dressed. He already had a suit picked out ahead of time. He had dressed in outfits like this frequently while living with his parents. College allowed him to wear less formal attire, but putting on the dress pants and tie felt familiar.

Laxus walked silently into the bedroom and watched him from the side. He had seen Freed dress formally a few times and _damn_, he looked good. Clothes like that suited him more than the casual-wear he had been lounging in all week. As Freed looked in the mirrored closet to adjust his tie, Laxus finally strode forward and kissed the side of his neck, nuzzling into the smell of cologne.

"Laxus!" Freed protested, although he melted slightly at the soft nose rubbing over his skin.

"I ain't gonna mark ya," he promised, still sniffing him. He gave the side of Freed's ear a kiss and looked into the mirror at the two of them, Freed in a suit and tie, him still in boxers and muscle shirt. "You look great. Knock 'em dead!"

Freed grinned with confidence. Then Laxus moved aside to let him finish getting his shoes on and the last few details of his suit. He kept clear until finally Freed grabbed his car keys and walked to the door. They faced one another, about to leave each other's side for the first time in days.

"Will you be okay here?" Freed asked in concern.

Laxus scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Who the hell do you think you're talking to?" He put his hands on Freed's shoulders and looked at him firmly. "You have some serious duties. I won't bother pretending that you're not the bread-winner in this relationship. You go on and do your thing. I'm gonna sort through the boxes." He gave Freed a kiss on the forehead. "Have a good day at the office."

Freed gawked at him in surprise and began to blush. "I … I feel like my wife is kissing me off to work."

"Fuck you!" Laxus laughed. "I really will spank your ass. Your coworkers wouldn't see my hand print on your butt."

Freed chuckled and kissed Laxus' lips. "Why don't you try making a pot roast for dinner?"

"Bitch, I really will—"

"I'm serious," Freed cut in. "I don't think I've ever had your cooking besides breakfasts. You lived on your own up until now. I assume you know how to cook more than scrambled eggs."

Laxus glared aside. "You … like pot roast?"

"Well, it can be anything, so long as it's made by you. I actually prefer chicken to roast."

"Good. I've never even had pot roast in my life."

Freed gawked. "Are you serious?"

"My mother was vegan. We ate a lot of salad, pasta, rice, and tofu."

"Well, I look forward to anything you make," Freed smiled. "I'll call you on my lunch break."

"Y-yeah," Laxus said awkwardly. "Now get the hell outta here before I really do feel like a goddamn wife."

Freed just laughed and waved as he shut the door.

Laxus stood in the silent apartment and finally allowed himself to blush.

"Idiot," he muttered. "Pot roast, huh?"

* * *

That evening, Freed came home tired from a long, exhausting day. First days at a job were always stressful, but this one was far worse. He was the son of the CEO, he knew many of the upper management from Christmas parties, but the lower ranks had their prejudices against him already. His father wanted him to start low and work his way up through merit, but to the people who had been working there for a year or more, to suddenly have this man fresh out of college already be the junior manager stank of nepotism. Freed knew this was going to be a long fight up the corporate ladder. The pressure to be perfect was greater than ever.

So coming home was a huge relief. Here, he knew he did not have to be polite, amiable, authoritative, and socially perfect. If he was lucky, he could be a slave, where he made no decisions and his only responsibility was to follow his master's orders.

"I'm home," he called in, hearing the exhaustion in his own voice.

Laxus rushed forward out of the living room, wearing faded old sweats and looking worried by that tired greeting. However, Freed smiled to show he was fine, just weary. Laxus eased his suit coat off and hung it up for him. As Freed removed his shoes, Laxus held him steady, already pampering him. Freed loosened his tie, smiled up at Laxus, and collapsed against his chest.

"Missed you," he sighed, feeling safe in those huge arms.

Laxus smiled and stroked down his hair. "You look like you've fought a battle."

"Mmh, might as well have. People all around me are _too aware_ of my standing with the company's CEO. I'm just a junior manager, but I'm already fighting to have my coworkers call me Freed and not Mister Justine like my father. Just as I thought they were warming up to me, and we were standing around joking like normal people, Father came down personally to see how I was doing, and _bam_, it's Mister Justine all over again."

Laxus just chuckled. "A little respect isn't so bad."

"I want to be treated normally," he sighed. "I know where this game of my father's ends. I'll be CEO one day. Until then, I want something normal, typical office dynamics, coworkers who don't treat me like I'm a demigod. Dammit, Macao was practically bowing to me, and he's a senior engineer, been there for decades."

"Shhh!" Laxus said, hugging him. "That's all out there. In here, it's just us."

Freed hummed happily. "Just us," he whispered, wrapping his arms around Laxus. "I wish it was always just us."

Laxus kissed the top of his head. "What do you need tonight? Tell me what to do to make it better."

Freed sighed in misery. "I feel bad saying it, but I'm really not—"

"Foot rub?" Laxus offered. "Hot bath? Glass of wine? Cuddling on the couch and watching reruns?"

Freed raised his head in astonishment. He thought Laxus was talking about sex, and at the moment he was too mentally drained.

"Idiot," Laxus chuckled at seeing his expression. "Ya think I've never worked a shitty shift and came home needing to watch old 80s shows while guzzling beer? While you were sitting around in that university, I was out there working crap jobs. I know what it's like. The world out there wears you down, and today was a big day. Relax for tonight. Come on! Dinner is done. I'll pop a bottle of wine to celebrate your new job."

Laxus tugged him over to the kitchen. Freed had already smelled something good cooking, and now he saw that Laxus actually did manage to make a pot roast, although the kitchen was a mess. They sat down to dinner, and they were relatively quiet, just casual remarks about the food, asking for the salt, and idle chat.

Freed thought this was like some crazy dream, coming home from work and having dinner together. He kept looking up, seeing Laxus sitting across the table, and shaking his head. Something like this … nine months ago, he never would have dreamed of something so incredible.

Laxus also kept quiet. He was glad to hear that the meat turned out good, and the buttered asparagus he cooked to go along with it was easy enough, yet Freed still complimented the seasoning. They clinked wineglasses in celebration, but mostly their mouths were busy chewing. Laxus realized Freed kept staring at him, and he hardly blamed him. He kept looking up as well. He had gotten used to a solitary life, cooking and eating alone. Having someone as graceful and handsome as Freed sitting across from him, eating the food he had prepared, was a domestic wish he thought was far beyond the realm of possibility.

They washed dishes together and decided to watch some old episodes of _Game of Thrones_. As a homosexual scene between Loras and Renly came on, Freed blushed. He knew what was coming up.

"_People love you. They love to serve you because you're kind to them._"

Laxus rubbed Freed's leg. "See? You're kind, and if they respect you, isn't that the point of being a manager?"

Freed muttered humbly, "Junior manager."

"_You're willing to do what needs to be done, but you don't gloat over it._"

Laxus kissed Freed's head. "You're like that, too."

"You don't know that. You've never seen me at work, or even at school, for that matter."

"I know you," he said sagely.

As Loras Tyrell undid Renly Baratheon's trousers and dropped to his knees, Freed gulped at how hot that looked. When he had first seen this episode years ago, he had fantasized about his own sexy Loras gazing up at him with eyes that dreamy. Suddenly, Laxus' hand drifted up, lightly stroked Freed's erection, and elicited a choked groan.

"_You would be a wonderful king._"

Laxus leaned into Freed's ear. "You would be a wonderful CEO," he said in the same tone.

Freed looked up in astonishment. Laxus smiled down at him as Renly began to get a sweet blow job from Loras.

Laxus muted the show, not caring about the next part. His hand ran through Freed's hair, he leaned over, and he kissed warmly, powerfully, persistently. Freed hummed at the dominating lips and Laxus' massive hands stroking his skin.

Laxus suddenly grabbed Freed, yanking him right up onto his lap. Freed yelped as he was pulled like a doll, and his legs spread to straddle Laxus' thighs. Rough hands slid up under his shirt, tingling Freed's body like currents of electricity.

"L-Laxus," he whined.

"Love feeling you," Laxus growled, nipping Freed's lower lip and tugging it with his teeth.

Freed pulled away from the kisses, but Laxus' lips went to his throat instead. "_Nngh!_ I don't want to complain or anything, but … _ah!_ … but I have to wake up early tomorrow. If … _ooh!_ … if we do this, I … I won't—"

"Shut up," Laxus muttered, his mouth still planting kisses, not sucking or marking, just kissing and sometimes running his tongue along the racing vein in Freed's neck. "It's fine if we just make out, right?"

Freed gasped softly as Laxus kissed a spot that sent chills through him. "M-make out?"

"Yeah, just this." He moved up again and kissed his mouth. Their tongues danced together, and although Freed moaned, Laxus was keeping his hands above the waist. "Just this is all. I won't touch you. I wouldn't want you to be late to work, Mister Justine."

After a day of hearing people call him that and trying to insist that they call him Freed, hearing Laxus say it affected Freed the same way as that one time when the blond had called him Master.

"Ooh, you like me calling you that," he chuckled.

"I … I don't!"

"Of course you do," he muttered, and licked around Freed's ear before whispering, "Mister Justine."

Freed shivered again. Why was that affecting him? He thought he hated being called that.

"I'm fine with just this," Laxus said, kissing the area behind Freed's ear. "Although," he whispered secretively, "if you want to do something to me, I'm fine with that, too."

Freed gulped. He glanced down and saw a bulge growing in Laxus' sweatpants.

"I … I could—"

"Only what you want," Laxus breathed hotly into his ear.

"Then … um … this," he said, and he pulled Laxus down, lying back on the couch.

Laxus followed him down and let their lips glance over one another. Their bodies pressed together, but their groins did not touch. Laxus was being strict on that. Freed sensed what this was. Although saying it was for his sake, Laxus was also purposely denying him. He could have kept kissing and Freed would have given in, letting himself be taken. Instead, since Laxus said he would not touch Freed, now he would definitely stick to that rule.

But Freed could touch him.

A thousand scenarios played through Freed's mind as they made out on the couch. He could mimic the scene they just saw and give Laxus a blow job here in the living room, sitting between his knees and slowly sucking on him while Laxus continued to watch television, taking the pleasure in stride. He could lie there and have Laxus thrust into his mouth. He could worship this man's cock while denying his own pleasure, torturing himself with need. He could do just about anything to this man, since the only rule was that Laxus would not touch him.

Before he could make up his mind what to do, Laxus pulled back.

"Dammit, I can't do this."

Freed looked up in confusion. "Can't do what?"

"Make out with you without wanting sex, and I won't do that, not on a workday."

"Whoa, wait!" Freed cried out. "No one said we can't have sex during the week."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" he asked in a snappish, annoyed tone. "If I pound your ass, and you have to sit at a desk all day, you'll end up with hemorrhoids or something. I'm not gonna do anything to hurt you permanently or risk your job."

"Then … what if … just this."

He pulled Laxus back down to him, but this time his arms pulled those sharp hips down, too. Freed thrust up, grinding their arousals together and getting a low growl out of Laxus.

"This is fine," Freed whispered.

"No, it's not."

Freed felt stung. "Why not? I'm so turned on, I'll jerk off anyway, so it's fine if we're doing this together."

"No, I mean … I don't want you to come in those nice clothes."

Freed laughed and patted Laxus' cheek. "Then let's do something about that."

They sat up and hurried undressed themselves. Laxus yanked his shirt off and shimmied out of the sweatpants and boxers. Freed took longer, messing with all the buttons on his shirt and getting the belt off his slacks. When he was finally done, Laxus was sitting on the couch with a massive erection sticking straight up. With a gleam in his blue eyes, he patted his lap. Freed walked over, straddled those muscular legs again, and sat on top of Laxus with his knees folded to either side. Laxus' large hands went to Freed's waist and pulled him in close, smashing his cock up against Freed's belly.

Freed arched his body and pressed up against Laxus. The long day, the stress of the job, the pressure of being the CEO's son, all melted as he stroked his arousal against Laxus' own erection. They continued to kiss like before, but now their bodies moved, skin against skin, and each stroke heated them inside.

Although Laxus' large cock was more than enough to completely stroke Freed, he realized that his own might not be as pleasurable—how wrong he was!—so he reached down, wrapped his hand around the top side of Laxus' cock, and pulled it slightly away from his stomach. That increased the friction between them, and his hand began to stroke in time with his hips' moments. The blond was so used to kinks, he rarely bothered to think how pleasurable normal stuff could feel.

"Before I'm too erect, can I try something?" Freed breathed heavily.

"Try anything you want," Laxus grunted, "but I'm still not touching you." He sure as hell did not trust himself at this point.

"No, you won't need to for this. The day you came home from Greece, you mentioned that you wondered what it was like to have foreskin." Freed grinned devilishly. "How about I show you?"

Laxus arched an eyebrow.

"Since you don't have it, I bet you never thought of this." He looked _way_ too pleased with himself as he shifted his position on Laxus' legs, lifting his ass and tilting his hips. "I'm not really sure if it'll work with someone of your size, but … if it does … you'll at least get a hint."

Freed pulled on his foreskin, tugging on it until it went over the head of his half-hard cock. This would have been easier if he was not erect at all, but the discomfort of stretching his skin this far was erotic as well. Then he placed the tip of his cock right up against the leaking slit of Laxus' own.

"What are you doing?" Laxus asked cautiously.

Freed grinned at him. "Giving you foreskin."

He pulled his skin over the head of Laxus' cock. It was an incredibly tight fit, nearly painful, and he realized lube would have been a good idea. He had to relax himself. The mental imagery alone would have him coming in under a minute, plus he wanted his skin to truly cover Laxus. Luckily, the stretching pain killed his desire to come and made him shrink just enough for this to work. After a minute of stretching, tugging, and fitting, Laxus was properly docked right inside of his foreskin.

"Ho- … -ly … shit," Laxus gasped.

"You'll need to touch yourself," Freed warned him. He knew that if he let go, this could spring back and they would lose this incredible connection. "So, this is foreskin, that bit of penis protection your god ordered to be cut off from good Jewish boys, although he was the one who created it in the first place. What do you think?"

Laxus was stroking himself as he felt the inside flesh. "It's … soft."

Freed smiled at the lost, hazy lust in his eyes. "Feels good?" He stroked so that the skin moved around Laxus' head. The stimulation to the inside of his foreskin was intense, and he bit on his lips.

"Fuck yeah!" Laxus growled.

Freed liked wrapping himself around Laxus this way. It was different than just being thrust into, since he was the one thrusting down, feeling that large cock through his foreskin and through his fingers. It was his own cock, an extension of it at least, yet it was Laxus inside, wearing him like a piece of clothing.

"Oh God, Freed," Laxus grunted.

Seriously, it seemed like anything this rich brat did was amazing. The silky feel of Freed's foreskin rubbing the most sensitive part of his cock drove him on. The heads of their cocks slithered together with drenching pre-cum until both cried out in pleasure. Freed felt himself losing control, and the foreskin was pulling back. He tried to keep this connection at least a little longer, even though it was getting more painful to hold the skin in place.

"Freed!" Laxus gasped. "Fuck, I'm not gonna last at all."

"It's fine."

"But … inside?"

Freed leaned up into his ear. "Yes. Come inside me."

That sensual breath snapped Laxus. His wrist flew faster, his face grimaced at the intensity, and he roared as he came, spilling into the hood of Freed's foreskin. The look of Laxus succumbing to pleasure, and especially the feel of that cum spurting against his own cock at point-blank range, was the last bit Freed needed. With a whimpering cry, he felt himself pour out, and the feeling was incredible. He was coming directly into Laxus' own slit, almost like he could shoot his load down that tiny tunnel. He felt their cum mixing within his own skin, spilling out and dripping down Laxus' shaft. Their foreheads pressed together, both sweaty, and their breaths mingled as they panted in exhaustion.

"Freed, that … that was … damn!"

"Good?" he asked in an arrogant tone.

"Oh fucking hell, yes!" he growled.

Freed let go, his skin retracted back to normal, and the cum slithered out, getting onto both of them. The tips of their cocks were still together, covered in milky white.

"See, there are ways to enjoy kinks without hurting me or being in my ass." Freed leaned into Laxus' ear again. "You can get under my skin anytime."

Laxus looked like an exhausted yet still ravenous beast as he glared up with a salacious smile. "We're getting a shower, and then I'm sticking you into bed."

"I'm not really sleepy," Freed shrugged.

"Fine, but if I'm still awake by the time I get my second wind, I'll be too weak-willed to stop myself from pounding that ass of yours. So we're going to bed. Sit up and read if you want, but for _your_ sake, _I'm_ going to bed, and I want you in the bed with me."

"So demanding," Freed teased, and gave him a kiss before climbing off his lap. "Get the shower ready. I'll toss the clothes into the hamper and clean up."

Slowly, feeling the cum dripping on his skin, Laxus stood up. He watched Freed walking around, gathering the discarded clothes. His eyes drifted down. Now flaccid, that wonderful cock was completely hooded by the foreskin.

"Freed?"

He hummed in question and looked around his shoulder.

"We're doing that again someday."

Freed smirked slyly. He knew Laxus would enjoy it. "Does my Jew like his little Gentile's manhood?"

"Fuck yes!" he snarled. "Makes me almost jealous."

Freed slithered up until their hips were touching. "I'm the jealous one. Yours never hides, and it's so … _so_ … big!" His tongue made a slight flicker out to his lips, just enough to moisten them.

"Dammit, Freed!" he shouted in frustration.

With a light laugh, the green-haired man pulled away, loving how he could tease his lover so easily.

"Bitch," Laxus grumbled, but he smiled as Freed practically pranced to the laundry room. Damn, living together was going to be wonderful!

**End of Chapter 35**

* * *

_A/N: It's been mentioned before that, since Laxus was born and raised Jewish, he is circumcised while Freed is not. In case you've never heard of it, what they're doing is called docking._

_Audio recording: chirb =dot= it/HPAAg7. It includes the clip from "Game of Thrones" I mentioned: Season 1, Episode 5: The Wolf and the Lion.  
_


	36. White Bird in a Golden Cage

Chapter 36

**White Bird in a Golden Cage**

The building was a normal night club most days, where Laxus was one hell of an intimidating bouncer … or electrician … or whatever he decided to be that week. From Wednesday to Friday, Blue Pegasus was a well-loved club where music blared, drinks poured, and young crowds mingled.

Then on weekends, it transformed. The pleasant club became a haven for people with sadomasochistic flair.

Freed had been here a few times before Laxus' trip to Greece. He liked to watch when Laxus gave demonstrations. The club had a collection of items, some which they sold through an online store, so Laxus had a wide range of whips, floggers, paddles, and just about every bondage device Freed could imagine. Some Freed had to see in use just to figure out how it worked. With his experience as a professional Dom, the club hired Laxus to give demonstrations in many forms of BDSM play. Freed had been suspicious at first, but he saw for himself, these were treated like actual lessons, and a few people standing around to watch even jotted down notes on the back of napkins.

The first few times he went, Freed hardly thought about someone recognizing him. Now, although the RSVP list contained no familiar names, Laxus hinted that maybe he needed to be more cautious—he did not mention meeting Llewellyn in that club the day Bickslow overdosed, but he did worry that if a gentleman like him knew about this club, others in Freed's social circle might sneak in as well under pseudonyms. That often happened, since the richer clientèle did not want their name associated with a place like this. Even Freed's name was not on there, not really. Laxus wrote him down as "Greenie Dreyar." Freed had blushed for hours when he found out that, at least for that night, he was taking on Laxus' surname.

Although he arrived in normal clothes, as soon as they were inside the club, Freed took a duffel bag clutched to his chest and hurried off to the restroom. Laxus waited for him, leaning against the wall outside the restrooms and eying the audience with the gaze he used as the club's bouncer. Although he was technically working, he had cleared everything with Flare. Freed was his responsibility during this exhibition. The club was more crowded than usual, and Laxus' need to protect his little angel was greater than ever.

When Freed stepped out of the restroom, he walked slowly, shaking already.

"Cold?" Laxus asked.

"I'll … be okay," he shuddered.

This was like a high school nightmare and his wildest fantasy wrapped up together. They decided the best thing was to have Freed dressed in disguise. He wore a white leather body harness with gleaming white angel wings and a white-silver vinyl pouch thong that fully exposed his ass. His white leather collar, new for the exhibition, moved every time he gulped, and a decorative eye mask of downy white feathers hid his identity. He realized everyone would see him practically naked, and yet no one would know who he was, none except the few workers who knew that he was part of the show that night.

Laxus grabbed Freed's chin and yanked it up. Through the feathery white mask, likely something from one of the Justines' fancy masquerade balls, he saw those blue-green eyes. His angel! He stroked along Freed's shoulders and to the snowy wings strapped onto the body harness. He wanted to _fuck_ this divine creature!

"You're my slave tonight, my pet," he said sternly. Laxus pulled out a white leather leash and hooked it onto the collar. "Tonight, you will obey me fully and completely. In return, I will not let any harm come to you. I'll protect you, no matter what."

The trembling fears subsided. He knew he was safe with Laxus.

Those electric blue eyes roamed over his exposed body. Freed had waxed off all body hair for this event, and the smoothness of his skin glowed in the club lights. Laxus cursed silently, wanting this night to be over already so he could ravage this delicious body. Instead, his hand caressed Freed's throat and down to his chest.

"Let's parade you around," he grinned sadistically.

Freed dropped his head, worried what Laxus might do. He felt a pull on the leash and followed. However, Laxus simply walked around the club, patrolling as if he was merely the bouncer … who happened to have a leashed pet that night.

As they walked through the main club room, Freed realized even more potently that absolutely everyone would see him wearing next to nothing, only a tiny thong. His head buzzed with the intensity of the humiliation. However, he was not the only one. One man was being led around by a leash held by a middle-aged dominatrix, and he wore only a spiked leather penis sheath. One slave girl wore only a chain g-string, and rather than a collar, her mistress led her around by a leash connected to nipple rings. Everyone had really dressed up for the event. Laxus seemed like the most normal there, wearing a half-opened yellow shirt and his usual leather pants, no different from what he used to wear to the old club.

"Feeling more comfortable?"

Freed jolted. So, Laxus was showing him around to reassure Freed that what he was wearing was not as risqué as some of the people there. He actually did feel more at ease knowing he was at least covered.

Suddenly, a woman in a red vinyl cat suit and devil horns walked up to Freed and tipped his head up with the handle of her whip.

"Well, hello there, angel!" she said slickly. "Looking for some sin?"

Freed felt a yank on his leash, and he collided into Laxus' chest. The burly blond wrapped an arm around him possessively and glared down at the devilish woman.

"Back off, devil-bitch. I _own_ his halo."

She chuckled and moved aside, mingling with the crowd and flirting with others, male and female.

"You're too sexy for your own good," Laxus scolded. "Next time, I'm dressing you in a full gimp suit so no one can see your body at all." Laxus looked down sternly at him. "You know the mistress here, Flare Corona, and you know the other bouncers. If I'm not nearby and anyone touches you inappropriately in any way, go directly to them. Our job is to protect everyone here and keep this whole establishment consensual. If you don't feel comfortable, tell them to back off, and if they don't, shout for Flare or for me."

"I know," he nodded. They had been through this his first time visiting the club, but back then he wore normal clothes and it was nowhere near this crowded.

Laxus' attention was suddenly distracted. "Shit. I have to deal with something." He unlocked Freed's leash. "Fetch me a drink, put it on my tab, and meet me by whatever couch Flare has taken. Stay by her!" Then Laxus shouldered his way through the crowd to some trouble happening by a cluster of tables.

Freed gulped, feeling all alone suddenly, but he had his orders. He went to the bar. He knew Hibiki from other visits to the club and told him _Thor_ wanted a drink. Hibiki already knew what their biggest bouncer liked, and Freed got himself a martini.

As he turned to go, he bumped into a small, pink-haired woman just coming forward. She was wearing a French maid outfit—rather traditional, he thought—and gasped as Freed spilled his martini.

"My apologies. Please punish me!" she cried out.

"Ah, it's … it's fine." Freed set Laxus' whiskey down, grabbed some napkins, and began to wipe the spill off his chest.

"No, let me, Master," she cried out, and she pulled forward a handkerchief from her ample cleavage, diligently wiping his chest.

Freed leaned away from the touches. Master? Him? Did she really not see how he was dressed?

"Please, feel free to punish me in any way you want," she said, looking excited at the prospect.

Freed cringed. "Ah! Uh … w-well … I only lost my drink. It's not a—"

"Then I will buy Master a new drink." She suddenly sniffed his chest, and Freed yanked back in disgust. "Sapphire gin, dry vermouth…" She sniffed again right over his nipple. "Noilly Prat?"

"What?" he asked, feeling dizzy at the thought of some strange woman sniffing him.

"Ah. Forgive me. Princess says I do this too often." She straightened up and stuck out her hand. "Call me Virgo."

Freed stuttered, but the polite side of him managed to surface. He politely shook her hand. "Fre- … ah … Greenie." He was supposed to be in disguise, after all.

"I will purchase Master a new drink."

"Uh, please don't call me Master. I have a master; I'm not one."

"Oh. I see," she said flatly. "How about Brother?"

He arched an eyebrow at that title. "How about Greenie?"

"That will work," she decided. She leaned over to the bartender. "Sapphire martini, Noilly Prat vermouth." She looked back to Freed. "One or two olives?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Shaken or stirred?"

"Stirred. Shaking bruises it." He picked Laxus' drink back up before anyone tried to sip from it. "So, Virgo, huh? That's a rather ironic name."

The small woman looked up in confusion. "It's an appropriate name Princess gave to me. I'm a virgin, after all."

"Y-you are?" he asked in astonishment.

"Well, I have not had sex, at least. Not even oral or a toy."

He blushed at her bluntness. "But you're … you know … into the scene," he said awkwardly.

"I enjoy the punishment," she grinned in excitement. "I don't want sex, just to be punished."

"An asexual masochist?" he muttered.

"Not asexual. Just not interested."

"I … I see."

Virgo suddenly leaned in close and hooked her finger around the ring in Freed's collar. He gasped, wondering if she planned on leading him around. Instead, she looked at the design with intense fascination and excitement.

"This is the Heart Kreuz BDSM line Pure-Sub collar with shimmer-satin lining." She looked up at him, eyes gleaming in awe. "How did your master find this in white leather?"

Freed gawked that she was so knowledgeable in fetish-wear. "We … we custom designed it to be in pure white. My master wanted it for the outfit."

"Your master spoils you. They're highly sought after and very expensive. Even Princess could not afford this."

Freed felt awkward. Laxus had balked at the price, but Freed had not thought much about it. He liked the design, and they both wanted it in white for the angel costume. He quickly and tactlessly diverted the conversation. "So, you have a … a princess? That's new."

"She is a good Princess."

"Is she here?" he asked, curious what sort of domme would demand to be called a princess.

Virgo turned back to the bar as Hibiki held out the new martini. "Princess does not like establishments like this. She's out on a date with her boyfriend."

"Her boyfriend?" he asked in surprise.

"My brother."

"Your … wait, what?" he asked. This virgin masochist had a … a _princess_? Who was dating her brother? Freed's mind tried to sort that out, but he decided it might be better if he did not think too hard about it. "So, you're here alone?"

Virgo turned back to him and held out his drink. "Don't try to pick up on me."

"I … I'm not!" he cried out defensively. "Just, you need to be careful. A petite girl like you—"

"I'm quite strong, actually."

Freed stopped. His gentlemanly side almost took an anti-feminist turn. "My apologies."

"Accepted. Will I be punished?" she asked eagerly.

Freed's eyebrow twitched. "Uh … I don't punish others. Sorry."

"Anything!" she begged enthusiastically. "Pain, humiliation, make me do a task, anything at all." She sounded truly desperate for the punishment.

Freed looked around awkwardly and saw Laxus still off to the side, glowering down at some man who now looked terrified. Then he looked back to the tiny lady. The gentleman in him would never hit her, and he could not think of ways to humiliate…

Well, there was one thing, something he and Bickslow used to do as kids.

"Are you okay with peanuts?" he asked first, knowing a few people with allergies.

"Peanuts? Um, yes," she answered with confusion.

"Good. Sit!" he ordered in the same voice he used for the dog his family had when he was growing up.

Virgo instantly took a seat by the bar, and her eyes gleamed in a thrill. Freed leaned over to a snack bowl filled with peanuts. He showed it to her, and Virgo's eyes almost crossed as she looked at the nut.

"Head up," he ordered, and she was quick to obey. Freed carefully placed the peanut on her forehead. "Now, balance it."

Virgo held still, totally focused on her task.

"That's it. Like a dog," he added, just for the additional humiliation. As kids, they would do this and even bark, but he figured for an adult, that might be too much.

"Shall I bark?" Virgo asked.

He nearly laughed. Seriously, this woman! "No barking until after you prove you're a good dog."

She shivered at the dominant pitch to his voice. Even Freed was a little amazed. He had flipped his role so suddenly from slave to pet owner, it left him a little dizzy.

"Stay," he warned as her excitement made the peanut wobble. "Don't … move."

She stilled herself again, keeping her head up and the peanut balanced.

"A little longer," he said, watching her. When he saw a pinch in her face from the stiffness of her neck, he said, "Okay! Good dog. You may eat the peanut."

Virgo obediently popped the nut into her mouth. She chewed, swallowed, and yipped like a tiny dog. Freed was so amused, he reached forward and patted her head.

"You dress as a slave, but you make a good master," she complimented. "Are you a switch?"

Freed was caught off-guard by the question. "W-well … we've done role-reversal."

"Your voice is very domineering. Please, punish me more!"

This woman! "Sorry, my master is waiting. I have to go."

He took his drinks and carefully wove through the crowd, away from the strange lady. A dominant voice, huh? He wondered if Laxus thought that way as well. He seemed to like when they did role-reversal, although Freed felt Laxus was just indulging his whimsies. Just how different did his voice sound when he was a slave versus the days Laxus called him Mister Justine?

He saw Flare and a huge man with long, wild, mint-green hair barely tamed into place by a headband. Although this stranger was instantly intimidating, Freed bravely approached.

"_Thor_ said I should wait here," he said. "Or … or is it the other name now?"

Flare smiled and waved him to set the drink on the table nearby. "He's known to the staff, but for Club he wishes to go by Thor. An interesting nickname. And … Greenie? I find that charming," the redheaded woman smiled.

"Well, he's worried, what with the exhibition and everything."

"Understandable," she assured. "He takes good care of you. And I won't tell him about you and the pretty pink-haired maid."

The bullish man beside her barked out a laugh, and Freed's whole face went crimson.

Flare glanced past him. "Ah, looks like the trouble has cleared up. He's quick at managing ruffians."

Freed turned and felt deep relief to see Laxus returning. Those blue eyes were instantly on him, and although he did not smile, Freed saw the gentleness in them.

"He's helplessly smitten," Flare giggled. She stood and walked up to Laxus, placing a limp hand against his chest. "Thank you for dealing with that. Attend to your slave. The poor thing is lost without his master. If you're not careful, he'll become a master over someone else."

Laxus frowned at the cryptic warning.

Flare ignored his surly expression and slithered away. "I'll make some rounds."

"They're getting restless, and that's never good. Start this damn thing up soon," Laxus suggested.

"Agreed. We're on schedule still. Remember, be backstage half an hour before your turn." Then she walked off.

Laxus walked up to Freed and glared down at him. "You reek of alcohol. Ya drink a barrel while I was gone?"

"Someone bumped me. She replaced my drink." Then his head dropped. "Sorry, master, if I was clumsy."

"Nah, it's crowded as hell in here." He pulled out the leash and attached it to the collar again. "Don't get lost," he warned. "Wanna drink while we wait?"

"If it pleases you, master."

"Sit at my feet while I chat with this brute," he said, thumbing to the mint-haired man.

Laxus collapsed onto the couch and motioned Freed to sit between his legs. Slowly, mindful of the thong leaving his ass completely bare, Freed settled down obediently. The two burly men faced one another.

"Hey, Orga. You alone again?"

"Not tonight. I have a new pet."

Laxus took a sip and chuckled. "Did you break your last one?"

"Hey, sometimes a sub just isn't meant for a dom. Ya gotta find the right one, ya know."

Laxus shook his head and sipped his whiskey. "You're backwards. Sometimes a dom isn't right for a sub, and if that dom wants the sub anyway, you have to decide how much you can compromise."

"Che! I'd never compromise anything," Orga scoffed pridefully.

Laxus shrugged. "Then you haven't met the right sort of person." His hand stroked Freed's head.

Orga glanced down at the collared slave who was staring around at all the unique outfits. "Oh, and you have? You're gonna shatter this poor guy."

Laxus laughed and continued to pet Freed's head. "Nope. I sometimes think he's gonna shatter me."

Freed looked up, gawking that Laxus would say that to a man who was almost as intimidating as himself. Then he dropped his head and drank almost half of his martini in one go to calm his nerves and hide his happiness.

"Sir."

A slim blond man came forward. He wore an eye mask like Freed, but dark red with gold trim, and matching scarlet cavalier hat with pink plumage. However, all he wore below was a red mankini. He held a drink out with his head lowered.

"Good job, pet," Orga said, and he patted his leg. The man with flowing blond hair sat obediently and gracefully on his knee. "This is my pet. You can call him Minstrel, since he loves to sing when I fuck him just right."

"Sir!" the man cried out in horror.

Orga laughed and rubbed the bare thigh. "Forgive his outbursts. He was a hard one to tame," he chuckled, stroking back the golden hair, "but he's the sort I need, strong and proud, not weak and delicate. Show him."

The masked man blushed. "Sir—"

"Show … him!" Orga ordered.

Minstrel slowly stood, turned around, and pulled the mankini to the side to expose his right butt cheek. Freed also glanced over and saw deep bruises from a large bite.

"Mmh, still looks good," Orga hummed proudly, and he spanked the bruised ass, getting a yelp from the masked man. "Marked him just before coming here. Can't have him roaming around without a mark." Orga glanced at Freed as his blond pet took a seat again. "Your slave isn't marked. Did you just pick him up?"

"Hardly. Hand!" he ordered, and Freed raised his hand. Laxus grabbed it and showed the matching silver rings. "That's his mark, and it doesn't fade in a day."

Orga sighed in disappointment. "Damn, Thor! You're going all domestic on me."

Laxus stroked Freed's hair lovingly. "If you've found the right man, there's nothing wrong with that. I've found the one I've been looking for all my life."

Freed gasped and dropped his head to hide his smile, overwhelmed to hear Laxus say that to someone in public.

"Are you really gonna make your _domesticated slave_ sit on that floor?" asked Orga. "I bet it's dirty and cold."

Laxus glanced down. "Are you cold, Greenie?" he asked Freed.

"Ah! Well … it's not bad yet."

"Get up here. If this pompous ass has his slave on his lap, I might as well show you off a little as well."

Freed stood slowly and sat on Laxus' leg.

"The hell do you mean, it's not bad!" Laxus snapped. "Your ass is freezing." He yanked Freed to be curled between his legs and rubbed his icy rump. "Sheesh, don't suffer so much. Not yet. I'm gonna be paddling this ass. You need to take care of it until then."

"Y-yes, master," he blushed.

Orga and Laxus kept chatting while Laxus continued to rub Freed's butt, even after it warmed up. Then his palm rested on the rump while his fingers pressed against the taint, making Freed whimper with pleasure. He wanted to get erect, but he feared just how much the tiny thong might hide him. He covered his groin just in case.

Freed lifted his eyes and looked at the submissive slave across from him. _Minstrel_, was he called? Obviously just a pet name, like Greenie. He stared harder. With those elfin features and silky blond hair, the man was very familiar. Freed wanted to hear him talk again. His voice had sounded familiar as well, but he had not heard enough over the noisy club, only "sir." Maybe that was all he was allowed to say.

"So, a mask?" Laxus asked, nodding to the red-masked slave.

Orga chuckled and stroked a hand over Minstrel's cheek just under the eye mask, only to have him pull away petulantly. "He's shy about people finding out who he is. Rather a proud, rich fucker. You're one to talk, though."

"Mine happens to be known publicly," Laxus said, and Freed heard a little bit of arrogance. Was he actually proud of Freed's familial fame? He wasn't _famous_ or anything, he just happened to be the son of a wealth man.

"Well, with their masks and their long hair, these two could be cousins," Orga laughed, slapping his slave on the back.

Laxus' brow tensed, and he looked over to Freed in question. He shook his head at that. He had no cousins.

"Are you thirsty, pet?" Orga asked, offering the drink to Minstrel.

The man took it and accepted a sip. Freed gasped as he did. The way he held the glass, the delicacy of those fingers, the tilt of his head…

Rufus Lore!

Laxus heard the sound of a sharp inhale and felt Freed stiffen. He looked down in concern while Orga pretended to wipe clean Rufus' mouth, not as if that refined gentleman would ever spill a drop. Laxus leaned into his ear and whispered.

"What's wrong?"

Freed shivered slightly, being this close to the man who, just weeks ago, had been flirting with him. He leaned over to Laxus. "I know him!" he said in urgency.

Instantly, Laxus bolted to his feet, and Freed was cradled in his arms. "I have to get my angel ready for later. You two enjoy the night." Then he stomped off and did not stop or set Freed down until they were backstage. There was a room Laxus used as an electrician, and he went in there for privacy. "Fuck!" he bellowed, setting Freed down firmly. "Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure you know that man? Fuck! Did he recognize you?"

Freed backed away from Laxus' raging anger. "I don't think so. I didn't notice until I saw how he held the glass."

Laxus' teeth clenched in rage. "I'm getting you out of here," he insisted, grabbing Freed's wrist.

"No!" he shouted, yanking away so hard his elbow hit a metal cabinet. "Owww! Ow, ow, funny bone!"

Laxus dropped to his knee and cradled Freed's hurt arm, kissing it in apology. "I'm sorry. Freaked out, I guess." He stood back up and looked anguished. "But seriously, if you know him enough to recognize the way he drinks, we should get you out."

"But the exhibition!" Freed cried.

"Fuck that! If I have to, I'll find someone else to paddle."

"No!" Freed yelled, and he tore off the mask. His finger pressed hard into Laxus' chest. "Now, you listen to me. If that man out there figures out who I am, we're trapped in this together. If he rats me out, trust me, he would suffer _much_ worse if I turned right around and exposed him to his family. At least my parents would be understanding, and they already know you. I _seriously_ doubt his family knows anything about this side to him. So far, he doesn't know who I am, because if he did he would have bolted in an instant."

"He's a friend of the family," Laxus deduced.

"Not a friend, but his family knows my family, they're richer than my family, and if you think I'm a little bit popular just because I was on the news for ten seconds, that man is far more well-known."

Laxus shook his head. "I don't like it. He could figure out who you are."

"And then what?" Freed shrugged. "If he came here as someone's master, I would be begging you to take me home this instant." Freed glanced slyly at the door. "Considering the way he acted around me last time … I'm _savoring_ seeing him like this." Rufus had acted like such a domineering person, indulging in Freed's occasional timid side, so seeing him as the one blushing and stuttering was sweet revenge for the social awkwardness..

Laxus looked confused, but suddenly anger blazed in his eyes. "It's the douchebag with the vodka gimlet!"

Freed's mouth dropped. "You remember that?"

"When you come home from Greece to learn some rich-as-fuck asshole has been flirting with your boyfriend, _yeah_, you kinda remember shit like that!"

"Well, now I have blackmail on him," Freed smirked. "He doesn't know who I am yet, and so long as you stay away from them, I doubt he'll figure it out. He's the sort who looks at a man's clothes more than his face."

Laxus' eyes narrowed. "You managed to spot him out just by how he _sipped a drink_. You must have been watching his _face_ more than his clothes!" he accused.

Freed chuckled to himself. "Loke's right. You're cute when you're jealous."

"If Loke called me cute, I'm kickin' his ass."

Freed laughed lightly as he wrapped his arms around Laxus and slid up against his body. "I really want to do this," he said, biting his lip with excitement. "Please, master." His body pressed up against Laxus and he leaned into his stoic face and begged with a sensual pout. "Please let me."

Laxus glared down, but a smile cracked. "Fuck. I don't even know who's the slave in this relationship anymore." He leaned over and kissed Freed. "Because I would seriously do anything for you." He kissed him again and wrapped his arms around Freed, clutching him close. "You're mine. My cute little angel," he purred, stroking over the fake wings. Then his hand slipped down to Freed's ass and grabbed it, not too harshly, just enough to get him to gasp. "Let's get you ready."

They left the supply room and went out. Laxus saw Flare and called out to her.

"Do you have any rooms?"

She eyed the two with amusement. "A quickie before the show? Sex in the back rooms isn't allowed, you know. I don't want the cops here again accusing me of prostituting men."

Laxus laughed while Freed gasped and blushed. "Lucky for you, I don't do quickies. I gotta get my green angel ready to fly to heaven."

She hummed in pleasure at the idea. "Back rooms are available for performers tonight. Get a key from Hibiki. Keep the room locked when not in use. I'm not responsible if your gear gets stolen."

Laxus nodded and led Freed by the leash. From the coat room, he retrieved the duffel bag he brought with Freed's street clothes as well as the supplies he wanted to use specifically for the exhibition. Then he got a key from the bartender named Hibiki. He led Freed back, away from the music and the chatting. A bouncer guarded the corridor leading to back rooms. Freed wondered what these were used for normally. Tonight, they were for performers or anyone experiencing sub-drop and needing some serious time out.

Laxus found the room and opened it with the key. Inside, it was not much: a couch, a vanity table with a mirror, a chair in front of the small table, and shoved to the side was a tiny rack with hangers. Freed wondered if this was used for performers in the normal Blue Pegasus Club, green rooms for the singers and band members about to perform.

Laxus hung up Freed's street clothes so they would not be horribly wrinkled when they left. He set the rest of the bag on the vanity and looked inside. They brought far too much, but Laxus wanted to see just how Freed was feeling when they got to the club. He wanted to be ready for anything, and that included alternatives to what they initially agreed upon.

Laxus heard a soft gasp and turned around. Freed had seen himself in the mirror, and apparently facing the reflected truth had horrified him. Such a powerful, wealthy man, and he had been reduced into such a humiliating state. Laxus saw him shaking. He was losing confidence just when Laxus needed him to be brave.

"What's wrong?" he asked sternly.

Freed gulped before he could speak. He felt like he needed another martini. Or five! "I … I look—"

"Fucking gorgeous!" Laxus barked over him.

Freed jolted in surprise, but then turned his face aside. "I'm dressed up like some silly angel wearing only a thong. This is not exactly a standard definition of beauty."

Laxus stomped two loud steps over to him and yanked his chin up, glaring down domineeringly. "I dunno about dictionaries and shit, but _you_ are _my_ definition of beauty. Just you, Freed Justine. It doesn't matter what you wear … or what you don't wear!"

He dropped to his knees, yanking the white thong with him. Freed let out a high yelp of protest.

"Do you think you're dressed silly?" He shimmied the thong to Freed's ankles. "Maybe you're right. I'm not all that impressed with thongs." He forced Freed's feet to lift, one then another, and pulled the thong away. Then he stood with the tiny underwear swirling around his finger, and he smirked down at Freed. "In that case, you don't have to be dressed at all."

Freed shook his head, shaking and hugging himself in humiliation. "Master!"

Laxus looked concerned for a moment. "_Écriture_, remember."

"I … know," he panted, trying to steady his mind. "It's not … not that yet."

"Are you okay with this?"

Freed meekly looked up. "Do you really want me to go out _naked_?"

"I'm thinking about it," he answered honestly.

"They'll _see_ it!"

Laxus cupped Freed's cheek. "Trust me, you have nothing to be ashamed of. My slave should feel honored that I have deemed his cock worthy of my approval."

His slave! Freed felt his struggling mind drifting, caught between his pride as a Justine and his role as a slave.

Laxus saw the internal struggle. He had to put Freed fully into that space, that mental zone where he let go of the cumbersome pride he had in the outside world and could slip into the liberating role of a slave.

"You're mine tonight," he said in a low, even voice. "My bitch. My slave."

His slave! Those words echoed in Freed's head as reality and fantasy battled.

"My wishes are your commands," Laxus continued. "You will do as I tell you. Don't think of anything else. Only what I order you to do. That's your only concern right now: fulfilling my desires."

His only concern… Outside in the real world, his life was plagued by duties, deadlines, family troubles, job disgruntlements, the pressure of being a CEO's son, and the expectation to meet such a high standard. Here, that all vanished. That reality was a nightmare that faded with this new, sensual reality. He was not some rich man's fortunate son; he was the slave to the god of thunder.

As he felt the outside world fading from his mind, he answered airily, "Yes."

Laxus yanked on the collar's leash and harshly snapped, "Say it properly!"

Freed hesitated. He mind still struggled, the proud businessman grasping at the edges of a cliff, the subservient angel watching and debating whether to let that pride fall.

"Say it!"

His mind snapped. Pride fell into the abyss. He was the slave to Thor.

He bowed his head and replied, "If it pleases you, master."

Laxus smiled as he saw that his beloved angel had defeated sinful pride. "That's good," he praised softly. "You'll be in front of people…"

Freed slammed his eyes shut in dread.

"… but it'll be safe," Laxus assured him. "I won't let anything happen to you. I would risk my life to protect you."

Freed blushed at the loyalty in those words. "Thank you, master," he whispered. "I trust you."

"Good," Laxus whispered gently. "They'll see you, but I don't want you to see them. I've been on a stage before. I know what it's like to be on display. It's one thing to just stand there staring out into a dark and blurry crowd. It's another to see their faces staring back. I don't want you to see how they look at you." He smirked and lifted Freed chin. "I want you to _imagine_ it."

Freed knew they had talked about this, and it was already in their flexible agreement. "You're going to … _blindfold_ me?"

"Eventually," Laxus confirmed with an arrogant smile. "I don't want you to think of anyone or anything else, except for me and what I'm doing to you. I don't want your eyes to look on them. I want it to be darkness for you, so all of your focus is on me."

He knew Freed needed that. He knew personally what it was like to have people ogle a body being displayed on stage. He had grown calloused to the degradation at the South Pole Club, but he knew Freed would be hyper-sensitive to that. Laxus could put up with it because the strip club's lights blinded him from the audience. The lights in this club were lower. Whoever was on display would see the onlookers, sometimes up close. That could easily overwhelm Freed, so blindfolding him would help him.

Laxus walked over to the bag and pulled out a ball gag. "I also wanna use this."

Freed jolted. He knew Laxus had bought that recently, but they had not even tried it out yet. "How will I talk?" he cried out. "Safeword … h-how…?"

"Can you snap?"

Freed looked confused. He tried to snap his fingers.

"Pathetic," Laxus sighed. "Either snap or stomp your foot three times. That's _Écriture_. One snap, you're okay. Two, that's like yellow, I'll ease up. Three, the scene stops. Repeat!"

"Three snaps, scene ends," he repeated.

"That's your physical safeword."

Freed's brow tensed. "We've never done that before."

"I know. It's something new, and it'll be in a public setting. I know that's scary to you," he acknowledged, "but we're gonna do this, and it'll be safe."

Freed smiled. Laxus had completely thrown him off his balance, and it worked to plunge him deeper into his role. All he had to do was follow Laxus' commands. Don't think; just obey.

He looked up and responded, "If it pleases you, master."

Laxus stroked his green hair, smoothing it down. "Good. Very good." He set the ball gag aside. That would be put on once they were done with the rest. At least now Freed was fully submerged in his subservient role and would feel more at ease. He returned to the bag of goods. "Cock ring, right?"

That was what they planned on, but now Freed wondered if it was what he needed. "Do we have anything more?"

Laxus arched an amused eyebrow. He was glad he brought all of their gear. He dug down and pulled up the leather penis sheath. "Is this what you need?"

That was better, but Freed needed something a little different. He blushed and bit his lip. "Maybe … we brought everything, right?"

"Yes."

He smiled in bashful mischievousness. "I got something while you were gone."

Something? Laxus thought about the new items Freed had added to their collection, and one came instantly to mind. "The cock cage?" he asked, astonished by that extreme choice.

"You saw it?"

"Of course I did! I packed it," he snapped. As if he could hide those kinky new items from him! "You'll feel more protected in that, right?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "I … I have … that problem," he said with a hint of self-disgust. "I don't … don't wanna … in front of _everyone_…"

"Shh." Laxus hushed him and hugged him gently. "I won't let that happen. I'll cage it up. I don't want anyone to see your face when you come. That's a face only I get to see." He pulled back and tilted Freed's head. "They can look upon my angel, but they aren't worthy of seeing you in your full glory."

Freed wanted to tell him, '_Only a god can see that._' However emotions choked him. Laxus was being so gentle while still humiliating him so profoundly. His eyes lined with tears of gratitude.

"Thank you," he snuffled.

Laxus pulled off the white feathered mask and dabbed Freed's eyes with his sleeve. "Shh. It'll be okay. Leave everything to Master."

Freed groaned and sank into Laxus' chest. "Master," he whispered, clinging to him.

Laxus stroked down his hair. Such a proud, dignified man, so young and already a manager in a major corporation—junior manager, Freed would have humbly corrected him—so much pressure to be perfect in every way. Laxus wanted to steal him from that corporate world that enslaved him, and capture him in their own private form of slavery. This one demanded little of Freed. He did not have to make any major decisions. Continue the scene, or end it. The rest was about freedom, being liberated from that grueling life.

Laxus had begun to realize that a big part of BDSM was not a Dominant enslaving a Submissive. It was granting the Sub ultimate freedom. He saw how emotionally vital that need was as he watched Freed transform from the tired office worker to this glorious being, freed from his gilded cage and ready to soar. His freed angel!

"Freed," he whispered, kissing the top of his head. Then he pulled back. "Let's get that on you now before you get all worked up and erect."

Freed wiped his eyes and nodded in agreement.

"Do you know how to put it on?" Laxus asked, walking over to the bag and digging down until he found a case that held the phallic-contoured metal chastity belt.

"W-well … yeah," Freed admitted softly.

Laxus arched an eyebrow at the nervousness in his voice, and not turning around yet he asked, "Did you wear it while I was gone?" He heard Freed choking, and finally glanced in the mirror to look at that amazing blush on his cheeks. "You wore a _chastity belt_ while I was in Greece?" he asked, his voice trying to be accusative, but he was more amazed and amused.

Freed stumbled around for the right words. He saw Laxus fold his arms, silently demanding an answer. Of course, the reason was simple, and he looked up at Laxus with a pining expression.

"I only wanted you," he whispered. "When I wore it, I knew no one else could touch me, no one but you, and so I'd wear it when I went to classes." He laughed awkwardly. "It was a problem, though. It kept me constantly aware … of my dick!"

Laxus burst out in an amused laugh. "Did it really?" He tried to imagine this pristine Justine sitting in a university business class squirming in his seat due to a cage around his cock. "But you felt safe?"

Freed smiled to himself, remembering those days. It had not been every day, but he still liked to wear it so long as he was not going to be doing anything rigorous. He reached out, softly touched Laxus' arm, and felt over the firm skin. Then he looked up, and love filled his eyes.

"I knew I was waiting for you. I don't want anyone else. Just you."

Laxus' heart raced. Leaving Freed so suddenly had been a cruel thing to do. As he sat in cheap hotels in Greece, he feared every day that he would return home to find out that abandoning Freed had been his ultimate mistake, and he would lose him for good. Instead, Freed had gone out of his way to stay loyal and chaste. Despite being left behind so suddenly, he had decided in his heart that he wanted only Laxus.

He suddenly grabbed Freed's cheeks with both hands, holding his head up, wanting to devour that mouth that spoke such sweet words.

"Damn, I love you," he sneered with overwhelming passion.

However, he harshly let go and stepped back, needing to regain control over his desires again, otherwise Flare would whip him for having sex in her club. It took him a few seconds while his cock protested that they could make this quick and quiet. Glancing into the bag of goodies, he saw a box of condoms as well. He knew sex was prohibited within the club, but he was not so certain he could wait to get home, and now he wondered if he could wait long enough to even get through the presentation he had planned for tonight.

This damn rich brat messed him up so much at times!

Laxus pulled out the silver chastity belt box and opened it. Freed did more than just splurge a little when he bought this thing. He went extreme! "White Bird" was engraved on the side of the silver box that held the cage in a contoured divot lined with white satin. He pulled out the gold-finished metal cage with diamonds around the rim. As Laxus lifted it out of the satin bedding, he hummed an old song that he knew was the name behind this chastity device.

_White bird in a golden cage  
On a winter's day  
In the rain  
White bird in a golden cage  
Alone_

White bird in a golden cage! His little angel would be locked away from flying to heaven. There was no way Laxus could miss why Freed must have wanted this extravagant cock cage.

"Well then…" He grabbed a cut-off nylon stocking and handed both items over to Freed. "Put it on!"

Freed shivered at being ordered. "Yes, master."

He slipped the nylon onto his penis first, trying hard not to let the attention arouse him. Then he carefully slipped the cock ring on, squeezing his balls through the golden hoop. Finally, he slipped the gilded cage up, making sure the pin connecting the two parts aligned. He picked up the padlock, but Laxus' hand suddenly rested on his.

"Let me do that," he said in a low voice.

Freed gulped, and already he felt himself wanting to lengthen and enlarge as Laxus dropped to a knee in front of him.

Laxus could hardly help but think of this gold and diamond cage as some kinky type of engagement ring. That was silly, of course, but still … he glanced up to Freed, and as he slipped the padlock on, he thought about words he wanted to say some day … when they were both ready.

He locked it in place, and then pulled the nylon off of Freed's cock, allowing it to fully fit inside the cage. Once the stocking was off and tossed back into the bag, he inspected all the parts to make sure nothing was pinching.

Finally, he stood and held the small key up in front of Freed's eyes. "No one lets you fly but me," he said in a possessive growl that made Freed's groin tingle.

Laxus placed one spare key in their bag, and the other went into his back pocket, just in case. If something happened to him, if he had to leave due to a brawl and he had to play the part of a bouncer, at least Freed could unlock himself. Two keys were just for safety, though. In reality, he knew Freed would not want to unlock himself. He was a good slave and would wait for his master.

Laxus gazed at him again. The gold-finished rings with three embedded diamonds forced the cock to point down, as if in a flaccid state, and compressed it, with the cock ring attaching behind the balls to pull with discomfort if Freed began to get erect. It ended in a birdcage-style tip, stylish and sensual, showing off Freed's cock yet not enough to see its full glory.

"It looks incredible. How does it feel?" he asked.

Freed knew, no one would be able to touch him now. That devilish woman, that Virgo girl with her weird habits, Flare, Rufus, all of them! No one would be able to pleasure him. Only Laxus. He belonged fully to one man only.

"Feels that good?" Laxus asked, enthralled by his squirming stance, so overwhelmed that Freed could not talk. "So, the chastity belt makes you feel protected." He suddenly yanked on the leather strap in his hand, rattling the metal ring on the collar as he forced Freed's head up. "This shows to everyone that you're mine, and this…" He reached down and stroked Freed's balls. The green-haired man gasped and choked as his instant erection was smashed down by the cage that forced his cock to remain pointed downward. "This shows to everyone that you are off-limits. No one can touch my slave!"

Freed trembled as his electrifying hand left him. He felt limp and yet alert, tired and yet hyper-aware, overwhelmed and yet so empty, needing to be filled up with sensations, any sort at all.

"You are collared! Leashed!" Then his hand drifted down to the metal cage that followed the drooping contours of Freed's cock. "Caged!" he snarled. "You're mine, fully, completely … publicly!"

Freed gulped hard and could not take his eyes off Laxus. "Yes, master," he whispered. "All yours."

Oh, the things Laxus wanted to do to him right then! If they had just ten more minutes, he would have slammed Freed against the wall and taken him, just to ease the burning in his loins. Instead, just as Laxus thought for sure he would pounce him, there was a knock on the door.

"Five more minutes until you're up."

Laxus snapped back in irritation, "I'll be there, Ren!"

"Not like I care, but Flare wanted me to make sure you're following club rules."

Laxus growled in sexual frustration. He stomped away from Freed and yanked the door open wide. "I'm prepping my slave, not fucking him. Tell Flare to keep her panties on."

The overly tanned man chuckled softly. "You know she doesn't wear any." Ren glanced at Freed, still standing quietly and obediently, flushed but caged. "Four minutes." Then he shut the door.

Laxus turned around and faced Freed. "Are you ready?"

He looked down at the gold cage. That was all that was covering him now. The flesh and shape of the penis was still visible. Although he felt safer wearing it, he could not imagine walking out there with just _this_ on.

"Do I have to be this exposed?" he whimpered.

"Yes," Laxus answered coldly, not about to give in to his slave's little act. Oh, he could _see_ how much Freed wanted this, but the pride in him was struggling to climb up again.

"Okay," he whispered, and he gulped hard, forcing aside the hubris and arrogance. He was a slave, and tonight his master was publicly showing him off. "I'm okay," he assured.

"Good," Laxus nodded, glad he was so brave. He walked back to the bag and pulled out a blindfold. Laxus began to bring the blinder over, but Freed pulled back.

"Can that wait?" he asked in a panic.

"I think you really need it," Laxus said seriously. "I don't want you to see them. Don't think of them, other than the fact that they're out there."

"I don't want to walk around blind."

Laxus put the blindfold aside. "Before we get on stage, then."

"Thank you."

"How about the ball gag?"

Freed twisted with worries and stuttered random syllables.

"We need to get going," Laxus warned, raising his voice.

"I know!" This was the time to show just how much he trusted Laxus, to surrender everything—his freedom, his pride, his speech, his sight, his humanity—all for his master. He looked up and blurted out, "I love you!" He looked proud at being able to say it directly. "I … I just want to say it before I can't speak anymore." He laughed lightly. "My last words."

Laxus leaned over and kissed him tenderly. "I already know," he whispered. "When we're done…" He kissed Freed again. "…I'm going to protect these lips…" Another kiss warmed his mouth. "…and take care of them…" The next kiss made Freed's body arch up. "…and thank them for saying something that precious to me." He gave one last, lingering kiss, and when he pulled back, Freed was in a drugged stupor, smiling and relaxed again. "Are you ready to do this?"

With the tingle on his lips, Freed was prepared to do anything for the man he loved so deeply. "If it pleases you, master," he sighed dreamily.

Seriously, how was he supposed to do his job when Freed's expressions made him so aroused? He focused first and took up a bottle of water they brought along. "Moisten your mouth and swallow everything down."

Freed used the water to clear out the martini taste and gulped carefully.

Laxus caressed Freed's cheek, feeling the heat of humiliation. "Ready?"

Freed nodded silently.

Laxus picked up the ball gag, white plastic with holes so he could breathe easily and to let the saliva drip out. Plus he liked the idea of Freed wearing all white and gold. He fit the ball gag in, and Freed opened his mouth wide, adjusting his lips around it until it was strapped in firmly. Almost instantly, his mouth began to salivate excessively, and he tipped his head up to swallow, not wanting to drool just yet.

"Is that a good fit?" asked Laxus.

Freed made a garbled sound.

"Snap your fingers. One, you're fine; two, do less; three, all stop."

Freed had to practice before getting his fingers to snap properly.

"Damn, you suck at snapping. If you're shaking and can't snap your fingers … hum _In A Gadda Da Vida_."

Freed grunted in surprise. That was new!

"The opening line. Try it. You love to hum, so hum it."

With the ball in his mouth, Freed could not really hum. The tune came out in guttural garbles instead.

Laxus laughed at how comical he looked. "That's perfect. Only for the highest safeword, though. I have a feeling, if you're that far gone, snapping just won't be good enough, especially if I'm not right next to you to hear it. Damn, how come a swordsman like you has such weak fingers, you can't even snap? So hum, got it? Hum _In A Gadda Da Vida._"

Freed nodded in understanding with a grunt escaping his pried-open mouth.

He picked up the blindfold and began to bring it over to Freed; however, the little slave groaned a noise of protest, then remembered and snapped twice.

"No?" he asked. Freed snapped twice again. "Just not now," he nodded, understanding the signal for less. "We'll walk to the stage. Just before we step out, I'll put the blindfold on."

Freed nodded and snapped once. He did not want to walk too much blindfolded or he felt his knees might give out.

Laxus picked up the blindfold and also the feathered mask. He removed the leash since it would get in the way and held Freed around the shoulder. Then he guided him out. As soon as Freed saw Ren waiting impatiently down the hall, his hands went down to cover himself, and he felt his heart pounding frantically. He began to lose control over his legs, and Laxus grabbed him quickly. This was precisely why he wanted to blindfold Freed. Public nudity can be terrifying the first time because the mind gets trapped in a fixation on the fact that others can see you.

"Keep walking," he said sternly, shielding Freed around the shoulders so he could walk by Ren. "Let's get backstage at least."

Freed managed to continue, although his muscles were twitching rapidly with nervousness. He was about to walk out on a stage almost completely naked. He had watched so many strip shows at the South Pole Club, but he never stopped to think about how much confidence it took to go out there and be ogled by other people.

He began to shake his head. No way could he do this! Laxus suddenly yanked the blindfold on.

"You will pay attention only to me," he said in a low, demanding voice as he secured the strap. He slipped the eye mask over the blindfold. "You will listen only to my voice. Respond only to what I say and do to you. Obey me!"

Freed snapped to attention. He had his order. Obey his master!

Laxus looked him over head to toe: gagged, blinded, naked, caged, helpless, _divine!_ "Damn, you look amazing," he groaned. His hand snagged into the back of Freed's hair, snarling as he pressed up against that body and got an unrestrained moan. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard after this. So hard!" he snarled quietly. "You'll need all week to recover from the pounding I give to your ass."

Freed shivered, wanting it, and the strain of the cock cage reminded him that he had to wait and be obedient if he wanted it.

Laxus smiled at seeing him like that. He leaned into Freed's ear and breathed warmly, "Let's do it!"

They heard Flare's announcement: "And now, our very own Thor will show a demonstration on paddling. Please welcome Thor and his slave, the Green Angel."

Freed caught his breath. This was really happening!

Within the darkness, he felt a warm hand guiding him. "I'm by your side. I'll protect you."

That promise soothed him as he felt warmth on his skin and sounds around him changed from muted to clear. He realized he must be under the bright lights, and now noises of a crowd were more audible.

Freed stood there, blind but aware in other ways. Although he could not see the audience, he knew they could all see him…

Naked. Blind. Gagged. A white bird in a golden cage!

And Laxus held the key to set him free.

**Next Chapter: A Paddle for Two  
**

* * *

_A/N: "White Bird" by It's a Beautiful Day is a song from 1969 that has seen some recent revival with films like Will Smith's "Focus."_

_Audio recording: **chirb. it/**_**_eEDhNg_**_ (remove space)_

_The chastity device in this story is based on the conceptual design "Diamond Studded Gilded Cage" featured in Mistress Cassandra's YouTube video called "White Bird" (after the background music) which depicts various styles of cock cages. I liked the idea of that gold-finished chastity device actually being called White Bird.  
**youtu. be/65Gpv1F5Yzk**  
_

_Over on Tumblr, infinite-atmosphere drew a picture of Laxus' vision of Freed as an angel, and it's so lovely!  
**infinite-atmosphere =dot= tumblr =dot= com/post/131447984666/i-know-you-probably-read-wild-rhovs-catch-the**_


	37. A Paddle For Two

_Audio drama: chirb. it/__JxN3tO_

_Introducing, the Punishing Bench: __www =dot= extremerestraints =dot= com/dungeon-furniture_18/the-punishing-bench_2091 =dot= html_

* * *

Chapter 37

**A Paddle For Two**

Freed knew he was on the stage. He knew there was an audience out there somewhere. He heard conversations scattered around. He was naked in front of all of them, yet he could do nothing. Blindfolded, gagged, collared, his cock caged up, he was utterly dependent on Laxus, totally at his mercy.

He honestly was not sure how much mercy the Thunder God would show him.

"Most of you know me," Laxus began, sounding a bit bored.

Freed heard his voice being amplified. Of course, he was giving no normal demonstration to the small crowd of a kink club. This was an exhibition, and the audience was massive. He needed the microphone.

"However, you don't know these two."

Wait … two? _Two?_ What the hell did he mean by two? Who else?

"This is a volunteer. Get up here, bitch."

"Yes, master."

Freed let out a muted cry of protest, wishing he could scream around the ball gag, but Laxus scolded her right away.

"Don't call me master."

He felt glad that Laxus warned her. Laxus often said he wanted and needed only one slave, and Freed was rather proud of being that person. He did not want to share the exclusivity of being Laxus' slave. He turned his head in the direction of the voice. It was familiar. He had just heard that voice tonight.

"She's a pain whore," he said. "But this?"

Freed was yanked forward, almost stumbled, and suddenly felt Laxus' arms around him, hugging him from behind.

"This is mine," Laxus said, his arms tight around Freed.

His! Freed felt himself blush at heard Laxus claim him, and in front of everyone.

"He's an angel," Laxus said in amusement, caressing the feathery wings attached to the harness. "He's delicate."

Freed wanted to protest. Sure, he might not like extreme BDSM, but he was _anything_ but delicate. However, the gag in his mouth made his "Hey!" come out in a comical garble.

"Yes, this one…"

A hand was on him. Large, hot, rough. Laxus was stroking him, straight down his body, down to the imprisoned cock, brushing over the gilded cage. Freed stiffened at the caress to that area.

"He's sensitive."

Shit, it felt good! And in front of everyone! He was being fondled in front of hundreds! Freed felt himself shivering at the humility. That shame aroused him, his whole body went rigid, yet his erection was smashed down by the gold cage. He could not rise like he naturally wanted to do, and that hurt.

Just as he was about to snap a protest, Laxus stepped away from him, and Freed felt like he had been left to stand on the edge of a pirate's ship blank with sharks down below. He was facing the audience, naked, blind, mute, and Laxus was not there to hold him. He was afraid if he took a single step, he might fall off the stage. He did not know how close he was to the edge, but he felt he must be very close to the gathered audience.

And naked! Everyone could see him! He even heard someone whisper, "I like his cock cage. So elegant." Shit! They were all staring at him. Naked! On display!

"So, how does a dom adjust?" Laxus said, getting right into the planned lesson. "You gotta start at a level you know will be fine, either because you've worked together before, like me and my angel here, or because the sub has told you directly, like Virgo here."

Freed stiffened. Virgo? Wait, the masochistic _maid_? He remembered she gave her name as Virgo. No wonder her voice was familiar. He met her purely by chance. Or had she bumped into him on purpose? Maybe she wanted to meet him before working together, but Laxus warned her to keep it a secret. It made sense.

"Still, there are ways to handle both sorts of submissives. Bitch!"

Freed heard a hand hitting flesh and a woman yelp.

"Get your ass across the hobby horse. Now! Before I hit you again."

"Yes, master," she said, and Freed heard footsteps scurrying off.

"Don't … call me … master," Laxus ordered, his voice edging toward fury. He let out a disgusted grunt and focused back on the presentation. "All scenes start with the right mentality. Mentally, she likes to be ordered in the cruelest way possible. This one, though."

Sensing more than seeing, Freed knew Laxus was standing in front of him. His hand was on his cheek, stroking him gently.

A soft, warm, yet commanding line was spoken to him. "I want you on your knees."

Freed did not even think. He dropped, right there, so hard and so suddenly that it hurt, yet he was utterly and fully obedient to that low, gentle, dominant voice. He remembered doing this before. The first day he spoke with Laxus, in the South Pole Club's restroom, Laxus had given him an order to drop to his knees, and Freed collapsed, not caring how filthy that restroom floor must be. When Laxus spoke to him in that voice, there was no way Freed could disobey.

Laxus stroked Freed's hair, smirking down at him.

Oh yes, this was familiar! He remembered that day as well, meeting this young, awkward man, someone he had noticed in the audience because he stared with such intensity, it made Laxus want to dance better. When he saw he would be giving "Greenie" a lap dance, his heart had sped up a little. He had been wanting to meet that man with the long, green hair, but there was never a good opportunity. Then he made such a basic mistake while giving him a lap dance, not paying attention to his client's limits, because that handsome face distracted him. When Freed yelled at him and ran off, Laxus felt a pang in his heart. Normally, he wouldn't have cared if a client got mad. Fuck all of those perverts! Seeing that young, nameless man with green hair get angry was different. Laxus hated himself for going too far, and he wanted more than anything to make it up to him. He had raced backstage, grabbed prop jeans and his own boxers, and gave them to Freed to wear after coming in his pants. He felt such an instant and utterly confusing connection to this man.

When he realized he had a chance to dominate him a little, seeing Freed obey him and drop to his knees so hard, so unquestioningly and unhesitatingly, made Laxus' cock tingle in a way no other client, in all his years, had ever done. That moment in the disgusting strip club restroom amidst the smells of shit, cum, and disinfectant, he felt a stirring in his heart, the very first flickers of something that gradually grew to be love.

Freed's admiration had not lessened, even though they now lived together. His obedience had not slackened, even after they began to switch up roles. Seeing Freed drop to his knees hard enough to leave bruises still made Laxus' cock tingle.

"This one likes to be told what will pleasure me. If he could speak, you'd hear him say 'If it pleases you, master.' And damn, does he please me!"

Freed's face dropped in humiliation, thinking about all the ways he had pleased Laxus in the past, from that first day meeting together to the foot massage he gave Laxus that afternoon to help him calm down his nerves.

"Crawl on your knees, Greenie."

Freed felt the leash of his collar tugged, and he blindly followed, being pulled along, trusting the guidance Laxus gave him. Then he heard a soft grunt as Laxus knelt beside him.

"It's a punishing bench. You'll be strapped down in doggy-style. I'll help you onto it."

Freed tried to reply, but his mouth was gagged. He nodded instead.

Laxus spoke again, addressing the audience. "It's fine to ease the sub into the scene. Especially if their senses are impaired, you may need to guide them. Forward a step, Greenie. Stand. Good. Now, lean over with your hands down. I've got your wrists."

He felt Laxus take hold of his wrists, pulling them forward until he touched a leather cushion.

"That's the bench. Can you climb up?"

Freed now felt the bench and cushions for his knees. He crawled up, but he realized too late that it was narrow, only four padded sections for his knees and arms. He nearly slipped, but Laxus caught him with ease.

"Gotcha! I should have showed you how it looks. Settle into position, ass up." A padded bar raised in the middle, pressing into Freed's abdomen, adding to the discomfort as it forced his ass to stick out higher. "There. Perfect. I'm gonna lock you into place now. Safeword?"

Freed was shaking too much to snap, so he hummed the first lines of _In A Gadda Da Vida_. He was glad Laxus gave him that optional safeword. He sucked at snapping his fingers.

Laxus laughed in amusement at the musical safeword. "Very good. Let me know if it's too tight."

He felt Laxus strapping in his wrists, forearms, ankles, and over his calves, just below the knee. He was strapped down on all fours, emptiness under him, his ass exposed and raised high. The leather straps over all four limbs felt erotically wonderful.

"Such a sexy bitch," Laxus purred, rubbing Freed's back and down to his rump. "Now for this little pain whore."

Freed felt Laxus walking away. That was right … there was another.

Why had Laxus used another sub? Why had he not warned Freed about this? Was he afraid he would protest? That seemed likely. If he had time to think about it, he would have gotten intensely jealous at the idea of _sharing_ Laxus.

"I wish I was her," he heard some lady in the audience coo, enamored by the Thunder God.

Freed fisted up his hands. Laxus must have known he would get jealous, so he did not mention using two subs. It made sense, and it was true. Freed was jealous! Still, he understood Laxus' reasoning. He had a lot of paddles to show off, and Freed could not handle that many, not at full swings. They had tried, practiced, ran through the presentation a few times, and Freed had to stop before Laxus could finish! So he probably picked Virgo because she was a pain whore. She could go to a level of intensity Freed could not withstand.

She could give Laxus what he craved!

That thought saddened Freed. No matter what, he could not magically increase his pain tolerance.

He suddenly heard a low whisper in his ear. "Whatever you're thinking, stop it."

He jolted at Laxus' order. Of course, he could not just stop thinking about it, not when this was going on. Laxus was talking, describing paddles of different types, but Freed could not even hear him anymore. His head had gone off somewhere else. He was on his hands and knees, and below him … nothing. An abyss. How deep? It felt like if he slipped, he would fall forever.

"Strikes should be focused on the lower, meatier part of the cheeks and upper thighs. Never strike the tailbone or the knees; it hurts like fuck and you can cause serious damage if you hit there too hard. It's best not to go full salvo right away. Some warm-ups…"

Freed felt a hand slap, not hard, but warning him. Then he heard three similar slaps to Virgo and her breathy moan.

"… build anticipation and gets them into the right frame of mind. It allows the cheeks to get used to the spank and acts as a safeguard. After a few slaps, you can increase your strength gradually."

Freed felt another strike, harder now, not a hand but the flatness of a paddle, instantly followed by rubbing and a soothing word from Laxus. Then he went away. Seconds later, Freed heard the strike to Virgo and her trembling moan.

Was he rubbing her ass also? Freed hated the thought of that.

"With permission, you can either take the paddle as hard as you want—"

Freed heard the slap of flesh, a loud of carnal crack, and Virgo crying out.

As hard as Laxus wanted … she could take it. She could handle those devastating blows that would have Freed screaming his safeword immediately. From the beginning, he could never handle the truly painful side of BDSM. He remembered something Laxus said after their first night together.

_"It's the only way I can get new clients, men I can beat up, do things that I wouldn't want to do with you…. Hurt you. Treat you like shit. Beat you up."_

From the very beginning, Laxus needed others to get what he needed.

Just like now and Virgo. She was someone who could give him that extreme intensity that Freed could not.

"Or…"

Freed suddenly felt a hand trailing down his spine, down to his ass, and fingers digging in, yanking him back to this club, this moment. He was on stage, and Laxus was near him, touching him, painfully groping his bare butt cheeks to pull him back into the scene and out of the negativity.

"… you do it in just the right spot, and you can go gentle."

The strike came, and although the paddle itself did not hit hard enough for that shocking crack like with Virgo, it hit in just a way to make Freed's mind flash, like lightning striking him, tingling him. He heard his muted cry through the ball gag.

It … hurt! But it didn't. It was hardly a strike, and yet his limbs trembled. If he was not thoroughly strapped in to the bench, he certainly would have fallen. As he was, there was no way to fall, no way to move, to pull away, nothing. He was trapped and Laxus was his savior, yet a sadistic god who would punish him before granting salvation.

"Aim low and center, at the crease where the cheeks meet the thighs. The vibrations from your strike will stimulate the genitals. Especially on men—"

Freed felt Laxus massaging his ass, and he stiffened. He was touching the burning sting, but he gently rubbed it out. The tenderness after such pain made Freed quiver, instantly craving more if it earned him this sensation.

"—a little paddle right to the lower edge of the rump—"

Now Laxus was tracing where he hit, and his finger sizzled on the skin still hot from the strike.

"—barely skims the balls."

He openly and unashamed grabbed Freed by the jewels.

_In front of everyone!_

Freed nearly fainted. He was being fondled so openly in front of hundreds. And … he loved it!

"That zone is _very_ painful. You don't have to hit hard. Probably don't want to … unless your sub likes that," he added slyly. "This one…"

That large hand stroked Freed's face, and he turned his head up, blind, mute, but still in adoration even if he could not see his Thunder God there.

"…he likes it gentle, but painful. And this one…"

Laxus' hand left, and Freed sensed him walking away.

"… she likes it as hard as you can give it. Two very different subs, and that's important to know. You've got to know what your sub likes. Do they like it as rough as possible?"

The crack shattered the air, and Virgo yelped erotically.

"Or…" Footsteps crossed the stage. "… gentle, but painful."

The paddle stung although the slap was soft, and pain again pierced through Freed. His cry was held back, but he was still moaning, almost sobbing, through the blindfold and ball gag.

"Now, on women particularly, if you aim in this region…"

Freed stopped listening, not wanting to hear Laxus talking about female anatomy, not wanting to imagine him touching that woman like he was touching Freed. He knew he needed to stop worrying, though. Laxus had ordered him already to stop. He forcefully shoved the jealousy aside. He was left alone to float in his head-space, savoring the pain.

That paddle barely, just barely, stung the underside of his balls, and that made Freed's cock jolt. The burn spread straight to his dick, heating up the entire region. He felt the member swelling and the restriction of the cold metal cage, the chastity device tugging even stronger on his scrotum where it was bound, which further enhanced the pain.

He wanted to get erect, to take full pleasure in this, and to come … oh fuck, he wanted to come! Already! Yet his cock was compressed and denied.

He realized there was a crowd out there. He did not want to get erect in front of them. The cage was a sanctuary, protecting him from that dangerous, unwanted level of humiliation.

Paddling, he could handle.

Coming in public, in front of everyone, to have everyone see him at his weakest … no. He did not want that at all.

The pain of the cock cage reassured him that he was safe. Laxus had caged him and protected him from the predators out there in the dark. Freed was the animal on display at this erotic zoo, and Laxus was taming him. Or, like a pet. Yes, Laxus' pet. He took comfort in that, even as his balls tingled with the trailing edge of the fading burn.

Suddenly, Freed heard Virgo scream with desirous need. "Master!"

He jolted. Master? But … but only he…

Freed next heard a cry of pain as Laxus grabbed the woman's pink hair and wrenched her head up. "You don't get to call me master. You are not a slave. You are a piece of meat! Only _he_ gets to call me master," he said, pointing to Freed. "Him! Because he is my one and only slave. He is the only one who has the _honor_ of being my slave. You can call me _sir_, but never even _think_ of me as your master, bitch!"

He struck her ass hard three times in succession as punishment, and Virgo let out a sensual cry, shivering, utterly enthralled with being punished.

Freed turned his head over to him, stunned to hear those words. He really had worried that maybe Laxus liked having more than one slave. Maybe he craved more than Freed could provide. He knew he was not into the harder forms of BDSM that Laxus liked: extreme impact, bloodplay, branding, piercing. He cringed at some of the stuff done between people, even with consent.

He feared Laxus might find someone who liked it rougher, someone who thrilled him more, someone who craved purely to be punished … like Virgo.

So hearing those ardent words of loyalty and exclusiveness made his heart warm.

"What are you smiling about, slave?"

The strike this time was to one cheek, then the other, two done quickly together. Freed cried out, and he sank deeper into bliss.

"Mentality!" Laxus said, addressing the audience again. "The sub needs to find their subspace. Once they do, the act mutates and the _true_ pleasure of the experience begins."

Another paddling smacked him, and Freed realized that Laxus was right. He was in another dimension now and this burn, this tingle, this entire act, was heaven.

He accepted strikes from various paddles: wood, leather, one with metal lumps that dug into his flesh, paddle after paddle, strike after strike. Freed heard nothing of Laxus'—rather unexpectedly—educational presentation besides the rumble of his voice. He already knew from their practice run-throughs what Laxus planned to show and talk about. Freed realizes that not all of the paddles he planned were used on Freed. Most of them, Laxus using on Virgo, giving Freed time to work through the sensual pain of the previous paddling.

Before each spank, he felt Laxus touching him, drawing him back, not sneaking up. Freed was glad for the warning. His entire ass was on fire now. He began to sweat and shake.

"This one needs extra force if you want to leave an imprint. Greenie," he said softer and just to him, caressing his face. "This will be the hardest."

Freed nodded, prepared, and immensely glad for the warning. A paddle that left an imprint! He had seen plenty like that in porn videos, but never had Laxus used one. He had warned Freed that he might, though, if the club could provide an impression paddle. Apparently, they did, just as they provided all of the equipment that night, mostly to advertise their sponsors, an online store for bondage gear and sex toys.

He wondered what the paddle said. What sort of mark did Laxus want to imprint on his ass?

Laxus must have guessed his curiosity, because he whispered into Freed's ear. "It says … _mine_."

Freed gasped. _Mine!_ Laxus was truly claiming him, in front of all these people, in front of a whole crowd.

The strike came, far harder than any other hit Laxus had ever delivered to him, and Freed screamed for real this time. It … hurt! Not even good anymore. Tears dampened the eye mask. He tried to snap. Was it two snaps to stop? Three? What was that other way? Humming? What song? He couldn't think. It hurt. It hurt!

A hand rubbed out the sting, soothing the fiery burn while another hand stroked his head. "Good. Very good. That's all. Nothing else, I promise."

Laxus' words calmed him. Nothing else. He knew he pushed Freed to the very edge of his limits, and that was where he would stop. Laxus knew!

"Most important of all is the aftercare. That will be discussed in detail later on. For now, this concludes the demonstration. Can you stand, bitch?"

"Y-yes, mas- … um, sir."

He guided her off the stage. "Easy. Down the stairs. Here's some lotion for your ass. Flare said she'll help you to apply it."

The red-head slithered forward. "Of course I will, gladly! Over here, my dear. I'll tend to that succulent ass of yours."

"Heh! Have fun with her." Laxus walked over to the punishing bench. "Greenie?"

A hand stroked his head. Freed had been just hanging there, locked on all fours, and feeling like he was sinking, saliva drooling down his chin, his eyelashes wet from tears he could not let drip, his cock … so full, and needy, and smashed down, painful, wonderful, delving him into a mental deepness he had never experienced before now. Reality was lightyears away.

The release of the straps made his skin ache. Freed nearly collapsed, and Laxus grabbed him around the chest.

"Oh, you're far gone, aren't you?"

He laid back, fully resting on Laxus' massive chest, surrendered, defeated, wanting to melt into that body. He was being dragged forward, and he did not even know where he was in the world. That world was shadow. Reality was Laxus. Only Laxus. He was everything. He was the god of this dimension.

"Take a good look, everyone," Laxus shouted out to the crowd, standing on the edge of the stage with Freed an utter mess, flopped bonelessly against him. "This one is off-limits."

He yanked Freed around, chest to chest, showing his bare ass to the crowd. His hand drifted down to where the word MINE was a bright pink impression across his swollen butt cheeks.

"Mine!" Laxus snarled, and he grabbed Freed's ass with both hands.

Freed jolted out of his sleepiness and tried to cry out in pain. Immediately, Laxus let go and rubbed it out. Still, he chuckled softly in sadistic enjoyment. He tipped Freed's chin up, wet and messy, that red ball in his mouth, the white feathered mask and blinder underneath it, the gleaming white collar, and his wings still strapped over the shoulders.

His angel!

Before all these people, Laxus had claimed him. It was printed right there on his ass for everyone to read, brightly burned into the angelic skin. MINE! Let them look at that bare ass and be jealous!

"Let's go into the back," he whispered.

He yanked Freed straight up and carried him princess-style off the stage. Freed curled into the broad chest and sighed blissfully. The demonstration was over, but the best part was coming up soon.

**Next Chapter: You're Freed**

* * *

_A/N: I went on an unannounced __break for National Novel Writing Month since I was unable to finish the chapter before November. The chapter became so long, I've broken it into three parts. More chapters for you, easier to edit for me._

_I received some gorgeous fan art from the immensely talented Zelkam, which includes Freed in his club gear with winged harness and white collar, their "Only You" promise rings, and Laxus being the grinning sex-god he is!_  
_zelkams-art =dot= tumblr =dot= com/post/135021764849/catch-the-thunder-nsfw-a-fraxus-fanfiction-by_


	38. You're Freed

Chapter 38

**You're Freed**

Freed felt lost, drifting, fading in and out of reality. He felt the jolting of Laxus walking down steps and through a hallway, then jumped as Laxus pushed open a door and kicked it closed behind him.

Now that they were back in the dressing room, Laxus could finally slip out of his strict dominant role. He hugged Freed to him, kissing him, cuddling him, gasping as he finally allowed himself to physically react to all he just experienced. While on stage, he acted as detached as he always had with clients, but now … holy fucking shit, he just did all that … _with Freed … in public!_ As it fully dawned on him, Laxus felt instantly overwhelmed.

"Damn, you were good. So good!" he panted, kissing Freed over and over as the mental and emotional onslaught shattered apart the cold, dominant exterior.

Freed moaned, and Laxus trembled at the sound escaping from the ball gag. Blind, mute, collared, caged up! Fuck, he was getting hard already! He placed Freed down onto his feet.

"Are you okay?"

Freed began to answer, but he realized he could not move his jaw or lips. He nodded instead and snapped once.

"Okay. I'll take this off." Laxus removed the feathered face mask and began to reach behind his head for the blinding eye mask. Freed yanked away with a grunt of protest and two snaps. Laxus drew back, stunned for a moment. "No?" Then he smirked sadistically. "You like it?"

Freed felt heat in his cheeks, but he nodded. The world was still out of reach, and he liked being in this dark oblivion where the only thing that existed was Laxus.

"Let me tend your ass, at least. I'm gonna sit on the couch and lay you over my lap. We'll get some lotion on that ass before you _really_ start to hurt."

He grabbed a bottle from his bag of supplies. He had brought a small bottle for Virgo—good luck to Flare on snagging that extreme masochist—and a special bottle for Freed in his favorite scent. He guided Freed over to the couch, watching him shuffle his feet slowly. Laxus sat first and placed Freed stomach-down over his lap. He looked at that gloriously pink ass and … MINE!

He had seen that impression paddle in a shop earlier that week. It was hell hiding it from Freed for so long, which was why Laxus insisted on packing the supplies. He had to sneak that paddle onto the stage with help from the stagehand Ren. He would have to remember to grab it before they left.

Laxus squirted lotion into his hand and carefully rubbed out the skin. He told the audience that aftercare was vital. When he was a sadist-for-hire, he never once dealt with aftercare. He hated the idea of treating those disgusting men tenderly. With Freed, it was the best part. He heard Freed's sensual, relaxed moans as the pain faded and _true_ pleasure settled in.

"You were incredible," he praised, and Freed wanted to smile despite the ball stretching his lips. "I bet you were shocked that there was someone else."

Freed tensed up and whined. He had been an emotional wreck filled with anxiety when he first realized Laxus would be working with another submissive.

The massive hand soothed over burning hot skin. "Were you jealous?" he asked casually. He heard a whimper from Freed. "You were, weren't you? Wondering who she was." His other hand stroked Freed's splayed hair. "How did that make you feel?"

In annoyance, Freed shouted something around the gag that was close to, "_Obviously I can't tell you when I'm like this, you idiot!_"

Laxus chuckled, petting Freed's head more and calming down his annoyance. "I know." He reached down and took hold of that slender hand used to holding a sword, yet soft and unblemished, the signs of a spoiled life. He stroked his thumb over the silver promise ring with its etched lightning bolt. "Only you. Do you understand? Only … you!"

Freed sighed, close to tears. Only you! The same thing that was engraved inside both of their rings.

Laxus pulled Freed up into his lap and held him so he could straddle his thighs. "Even if I hit someone else, even if I give these demonstrations, you are the _only_ one for me." He lovingly caressed Freed's pale cheek. "Only you. Do you understand?"

Freed felt foolish for his jealousy. Laxus was used to cutting himself off emotionally. Having Virgo on that stage meant nothing to a man like him.

"You're the only one I'll touch … here."

He stroked the golden cage, using his fingertips to lightly poke through and caress the skin of the caged penis. Freed gasped and bowed his spine at the sensual touch, instantly wanting to get hard, agonizingly reminded that he still couldn't. Laxus' low chuckle taunted him.

"I'm glad I caged up your cock. Damn!" he exclaimed, running both hands up Freed's taut torso. "I don't want them to see you erect … _ever_! If we ever come to something like this again, you're definitely wearing this. I don't care if you're fully clothed." His eyes devoured the sight of Freed's creamy skin. "Fuck, I just love the idea that you can't get hard for others to see. Only me, right?"

Freed nodded desperately as that hand began to drift lower again.

"Am I the only one who can see it?" he asked in an taunting voice, slowing down, not touching yet.

Freed began to tremble, needing the touch. He nodded frantically.

Laxus breathed into his ear. "You'll only get hard for me, right?"

Freed was squirming now, needing it so much.

"You're the only person in the world who makes me hard, Freed, and _fuck_ am I hard right now." He grabbed Freed's ass and pulled him in closer, frotting his leather pants up against the gold chastity device. "Feel that. Feel how fucking hard you make me. I wasn't even a little aroused out there, despite doing all that, but I get you alone and you just _moan_ and I'm so damn hard. So god-fucking hard for you!"

Freed blindly reached forward and clenched Laxus' shoulders. He wanted so desperately to get hard. His cock felt like it was being utterly crushed inside this cage, pressing against the metal edges, straining to rise and forced to point down. It hurt … deliciously! Feeling Laxus hard, and being unable get hard for him in return, was torture.

Laxus chuckled as he humped up against Freed and watched his body struggle so desperately. "Damn, I love seeing you like this. I almost wanna fuck you while you wear it. Watching you want it and not get it, fuck you until your cock blows even when it can't get up. Holy fucking shit, I want that!" he sneered, really thrusting up against Freed now. "Do you want that? Do you wanna be fucked while still being a caged animal?"

Freed frantically nodded, clenching his fingers in harder.

Laxus paused, but his hand went down. The metal was heating up with Freed's own rising temperature. "You wanna come though, don't you?" he said in a low, dangerous voice. "You want me to set you loose, let you come, stroke you off, maybe suck your dick?"

Freed nodded urgently, squirming as if he could break himself free, needing it like he needed air. He hurt so much, restrained and in erotic pain that gradually increased the more Laxus talked dirty to him.

"You do, huh?" Laxus mused, caressing down the cage and tapping the padlock holding him in place. "Good."

He tapped the lock a few more times, letting it hit the metal and vibrate Freed's dick. Then he leaned into Freed's ear and whispered two words to shatter his world:

"I won't!"

Freed screamed. To be built up, only to be denied, was beyond torture. He almost wanted to hit Laxus, and he did lightly punch his fists against those tight shoulders he was gripping. Stupid tease! And he was laughing. Stupid idiot was laughing!

"Instead…" Laxus sucked his finger and drenched it in saliva. "How about … back here?"

He nudged his finger inside of Freed's body, and all frustration flew out of the swordman's mind. He tensed, only to instantly loosen up, wanting it, ready to thrust down onto that finger. Laxus slipped all the way inside, and Freed began to groan in pleasure.

"Shh," Laxus hushed, knowing this was technically not allowed in the club.

His finger slid in and out, and Freed shivered, his head buried down into Laxus' neck. He trembled, thrusting down, meeting Laxus' hand, as well as thrusting against the bulge in his leather pants.

"Fuck, you're good," Laxus gasped softly. "Do you like that? Do you like my finger up your ass?" The trembling moan told him enough. "Good for more?"

Freed kept his head down and nodded eagerly. Laxus removed his finger, and Freed grunted out a maddened protest.

"It's okay," he whispered. "I won't keep you waiting."

He pulled his hand back up and spit a few times onto his other fingers. Lube would have been better, but that meant getting up. He reached back under, and two fingers nudged their way inside. He felt Freed's tightness quickly loosening, sucking him in.

"Fuck, so good," Laxus groaned as Freed thrust back onto his fingers. "You were so good tonight. So incredible. I love humiliating you in public. God!" With his free hand, he yanked Freed's chin up. "Please, let me do this again. Let me do something like this to you here, in public, for everyone to see. Please!" he pleaded.

Freed muttered something that was completely garbled by the ball gag, and Laxus arched an eyebrow.

"Is that a yes?"

Freed laughed, nodded, and also snapped once.

"Good." He kissed the side of Freed's neck and dragged his tongue up the salty skin. "I really do like it. I like letting them all know … you're mine!" he snarled, but then Laxus sighed despondently. "I feel like I can't tell anyone else. Damn rich boy!"

He loved Freed with his whole soul, but Laxus had no clue who he could tell. Freed was not a celebrity, but his family was well-known, especially around town. His high station made Laxus wary. He never knew if perhaps someone knew Freed and would use Laxus' questionable past against the Justine family. He too often felt trapped in Freed's ivory tower. Although he loved living with him, he hated feeling caged within those pristine walls. He felt like he might destroy Freed's life at any minute, so he told no one about this. He had not even called his grandfather to tell the old geezer that he was in love.

"Out there, I feel like I gotta stay in your shadow so I don't mar you."

Freed felt a pain in his heart. Did Laxus really feel that way?

"But here," he growled, and he forced a third finger in. Freed jolted and let out an erotic whine of pain. "I can make you moan like a whore in front of everyone." He thrust hard enough to force Freed's whole body up. "I can make you low and dirty and let them all know—" He thrust harder, and Freed cried out through the gag. "—that you're _mine_!"

He began to thrust up faster, sneering as the sight of Freed riding his hand made his cock burn, confined within the leather.

"Oh … fuck." Laxus yanked his fingers out of Freed's ass and picked him up like a doll to set him aside. "Hold on a sec."

Freed hummed a question as he felt the couch under him.

"I'm gonna fuck you," Laxus declared, taking two steps toward their supplies before stopping and looking back around sharply. "Is that okay?"

Fuck him? Here? Earlier they had been warned that the back rooms were not to be used like that. The club had strict rules. Kink could happen, but nothing overtly sexual. Breaking the rules led to punishment, and worse, Laxus could lose his job.

Freed knew he should say no. He should put a stop to this, follow the rules.

Yet in that moment … damn all the rules! Unable to talk through the gag, he nodded his consent.

Laxus just needed that, Freed's permission, since this was impulsive and not allowed. Let Flare fine him, or even fire him, he didn't care, he just needed to get inside Freed … now. He stomped across the room to the supply bag and dug through, anxious and impatient.

"Goddammit, where's the condoms?" he sneered, tossing things out of the bag to search through the collection.

Finally, he found a box of condoms and yanked out a square. He undid his leather pants and pull out his erection. It sprang forth, and a few strokes brought him up to full length. Then Laxus ripped open the condom packet and rolled it onto his erection. He looked back to Freed and saw him wincing from being seated on his sore ass. He walked back over, easing Freed onto his feet.

"Follow me, just a few steps."

He led him to the counter lit up by vanity mirrors and globe lights. He guided Freed's hands down so he could rest leaned over, standing in front of the mirror. Freed was still blindfolded and gagged, but Laxus could watch him. He smoothed Freed's long hair out of the way and stroked his fingers up Freed's spine, watching him arch like a cat.

So fucking sexy!

Freed wondered where he was. He tried to think of the room's layout, but his head was lost still. He was with Laxus, and that was the only important thing. He was here … with Laxus.

"Ready?" came a low and sensual whisper.

Freed felt something hard nudge against him. They were going to do this in public, and not like the strip club where it was expected. The kink club forbade it! Still, nothing could stop this now. They were too far gone, too lost in one another to care.

Freed nodded and let out a breath, preparing himself for what was to come.

Laxus rubbed Freed's lower back as he drizzled on lube, helping him to loosen up and relax. For this to work as quietly as possible, Freed had to be able to take it pain-free. Laxus squirted some lube onto Freed as well. He wanted to spread his butt cheeks to help, but the skin was still inflamed. Touching his ass would probably hurt far worse than penetration. Slowly yet with firmness, he pressed himself inside. Freed was ready for it, and only low groans of pleasure vibrated past the gag. Instead of his ass, Laxus grabbed Freed's muscular thighs, yanking him back while thrusting in, watching himself sink into that body.

He stopped once he was all in and draped himself around Freed's back. He kissing the lean shoulders, the nape of his neck, and the tips of his ears.

"I love you," he whispered.

A shiver ran through Freed's body. No matter how many times Laxus told him that, hearing those three words always made him want to cry and melt in happiness. He wanted to say the words back, but his jaw ached from the ball gag.

Laxus did not need words. He looked in the mirror and saw Freed's face. He saw the love there, and he smiled plaintively. Without Freed, tonight would have been about smacking a piece of flesh and schooling a roomful of perverts. With Freed here with him, it was a lesson to people just like them, a lesson in intimacy, given with the assistance of the man who loved him enough to be placed on display, all for Laxus' pleasure.

Without Freed, BDSM was about hitting flesh and taking cash.

Without Freed, he had been merely a glorified whore.

Yet with him…

With him, Laxus was a god. He was an instructor. He was a lover so madly enamored, he was foolish enough to do this.

With Freed, he felt alive! He was no longer that emotionless shell of a sadist doling out pain with no satisfaction in return besides money to buy more whiskey to take the edge off his self-disgust. He got no money for what he did with Freed. He got love!

And love was priceless. You couldn't buy love.

Laxus felt Freed's body waiting motionlessly. He was loose, ready, probably feeling impatient. Laxus gripped his bony hips and thrust forward, grunting as the tight friction gripped at him. He pulled back and plunged in again. Freed let out a cry as Laxus moved right over his prostate, and the force of the thrust rocked his caged cock.

"I want you," Laxus sneered quietly, "so much." He thrust in again. "So _much!_" He kept slamming in, rocking Freed's entire body with each powerful strike.

Fuck, if Freed could just see himself!

Then Laxus had a fun idea. Freed's cellphone was in their bag of supplies since he could not keep it on himself with his revealing getup.

Laxus reached over, turned on the camera, and took numerous pictures in the mirror as he fucked Freed from behind. He had seen those damn pictures Freed took of him sleeping and drooling. This was payback. He did not even lose his rhythm as he took pictures of the blindfolded and gagged face, the flush spreading over Freed's body, his feathery wings sagging like the fallen angel he was, a picture of the word MINE imprinted on Freed's ass with a full and glorious view of Laxus' dick fully pierced inside.

He paused, kissing Freed's shoulders as if to give himself a rest, while really he was emailing all of those pictures to himself. Now if Freed freaked out and deleted them, at least Laxus would have them. Then he set the phone back into the supply bag. Freed never guessed he was Laxus' erotic model once again.

"You don't even know how sexy you are," he said, caressing Freed's masked and gagged face. Oh, but he would at least see now. He would see himself in full, debauched glory. "Those people out there know," he said. Then Laxus mocked in a musical tease. "They've seen _eeeeeverythiiiiing_!"

Freed shuddered hard. He was right. Those people saw him fully nude except for his collar, winged harness, and the cage that shielded but showed it all.

Laxus reached into his back pocket. "But they've never seen you…" He pulled out a tiny key and fitted it into the chastity device's padlock. "…like this." He twisted the lock and pulled the cage off, freeing the cock and the balls. The gold chastity device fell to the ground with a metal clank.

Freed jolted at the suddenness, and his cock took no delay in filling up, so fast and so sudden that it was painful. Laxus laughed as he felt the full-body tremble. Fucking hell, that reaction was worth all the gold cages in the world!

"That's what you want, right? You want to be freed?"

He tried to talk, to agree, to praise Laxus for releasing him at last. He was voiceless, muted. His body said it all.

Laxus leaned into his ear and whispered seductively, "Because you're freed."

He froze with a hum of fascination, realizing the play on that word. Freed … he was freed.

"That's right," he breathed. "Freed."

His hand softly caressed the erection, and Freed thought he might just die from happiness.

"My Freed," he said, clinging around his waist to make sure the poor man did not drop. "Only I can make you free. You're only free because of me. Isn't that right?"

Freed nodded vigorously as that hand pleasured his emancipated erection.

"You're my slave. I decide when to cage you and when to free you. I make you _freed_!" Laxus said with a raised voice, but then he chuckled to himself. "God, I love your name right now." He was having far too much fun with this.

Freed was bucking into his hand, then back at Laxus. Teasing about his name and newfound liberation had made Laxus stop his ministrations.

"Y'okay?" he asked, giving a full stroke to mean he wanted to be sure Freed was not in pain in that region.

He nodded and thrust back again, wiggling his hips with need to show he wanted it.

"Good," Laxus whispered. He pulled back and gave a sharp thrust in.

Now, Freed's whole groin could react to the thrusts. Whenever Laxus' hips slammed in, they brushed against the sore buttocks still smarting from the paddle. Freed felt it spark jolts through everything, base to leaking tip. Laxus had a hold on his hips now, holding Freed's lower half steady as he bucked into him, so Freed reached down to stroke himself, giving his cock the attention it direly needed.

"Gonna take you!" Laxus pulled Freed's hair, yanking his face up so he could see the drool running down his chin and the crimson in his cheek. "Have you!" He thrust in, tugging the hair just on the edge of pain. "Make you _mine_!"

He let go of the hair and gave a normal spank to Freed's ass. Although it was barely enough to make a sound, Freed shrieked as all of that burning returned. His cock could now react to that pain, salacious counteractions that had been forbidden earlier. Freed stroked himself faster and clung onto the counter; however, his head hit something hard yet cold. Glass?

The mirror! He remembered this room had a massive mirror for the performers who normally used these dressing rooms.

Laxus was fucking him up against the mirror! He recalled how reflections affected Laxus so strongly, and he heard it now. Laxus was grunting and panting. His speed began to accelerate. Freed heard the signs of him already beginning to lose control.

"You're close, aren't you?"

Freed whined and nodded, keeping his hand going on himself.

"Good."

Laxus dug his fingers deeply into Freed's hips as he slammed in, releasing with a suppressed grunt. Freed felt that massive cock throbbing now. He trembled just to know Laxus was coming inside of him.

"Fuck, you're good," Laxus sighed blissfully, feeling that tension drift away.

Still, he had a task now. He suddenly yanked Freed to stand up, reached around his thin body, and grabbed his cock. He watched Freed squirm in the mirror and watched that dripping cock squelching in his hand.

"So wet. I make you like this. Make your cock leak. Make you drool. You're a mess, Freed. You can't see it, but you are such a fucking perfect mess."

Freed reached behind and grabbed the back of Laxus' head, holding onto him as his knees threatened to give out from how much his body was shaking.

"Come on," he whispered, nipping Freed's ear. "It's all right. You can come."

Freed cried out in protest and shook his head. He realized Laxus would think he was just being bashful, so he snapped twice to show his protest was serious.

Laxus froze at the snaps. "What?" he asked in concern.

Freed tried to use pantomime hand gestures to show his concern. Laxus watched in the mirror. Cock? Get big? Erupt? Well, yeah, that was the point! Then Freed gestured to show it would splatter all around. He next shook his head. No, he didn't want that. Laxus was still confused by this. Did he not wanna come? Then Freed made more hand gestures. Hand over cock? Hand holding the cock? Oh! Cover the cock.

"Condom!" Laxus cried out, finally getting it. "Oh shit, that's right. You need a condom."

"Mm-hmm!" Freed cried out in exasperation. Damn, this dense idiot of his!

Laxus reached back to the nearby supply bag. Luckily the condom box was still on the top. "Thanks for reminded me," he chuckled, pulling one square out and opening it. "Don't wanna mess this area. You might have already dripped, though."

Freed whined in embarrassment.

"You need to remind me sooner."

God! This idiot! Like he could talk! He had to play frigging Charades just to get his point across even at this late in the action.

"There," Laxus said, rolling the condom on nice and snug. "Damn, look at you. Look at my little angelic whore, wanting it so badly, loving my cock up your ass. Fuck, look at you!" He stroked Freed and kept him pulled up, standing, leaning back against his chest as Laxus stroked his sheathed arousal. "I love looking at you. Love seeing you fall apart."

He felt his cock begin to slip out, so he slammed Freed down to the counter again.

"Oh no you don't! I'm staying in here until you come." He thrust back in, despite the softness. "I wanna feel you come around my cock. Wanna feel that ass of yours trembling as your balls get ready to shoot out a load. Fuck, I love feeling that. Love to feel just before you come. So do it." He stroked relentlessly. "I need you. So fucking _need_ you."

Freed dug his nails into the counter, and his knees nearly gave out. Laxus wrapped an arm around him, making sure he did not fully collapse.

"Come on," Laxus urged.

Freed shook his head, but Laxus saw this was not a true protest. He was struggling to hold out. As admirable as that was, they did not have time for that.

"Come for me!" he ordered sharply in a deep, dominant voice.

Just like when he fell to his knees, Freed's body reacted on pure instinct. Holding back was not even an option. He came. He had been ordered, and his body did it. Freed felt his body throbbing with spurt after spurt, and all he heard for a while was the rushing of his own heartbeat.

He came … for his master! For his lover. His god! He was in heaven … here … with the Thunder God.

Laxus held still as he felt it. "That's right," he whispered in praise, savoring the moment. "Pour it all out, slave. All of it. Give it all to me."

All around his cock, he felt Freed's body react. He felt how things inside shivered and contracted just seconds before he came. He felt the muscles all around him tensing and convulsing. His hand felt the gentle throbs, the vibration as cum flowed out, and contractions of each spurt. He heard the huffs sputtering through the ball gag. He watched as Freed loosened up and began to sink. Then came a drawn out groan as it all swept away, everything faded, and that brief moment of divine glory passed. His wings seemed to fall, and Freed collapsed over the dressing room counter, his hair tumbling over the pearly inlay, his sweet angel fallen yet far more glorious now.

"God, that's good," he whispered in awe. Laxus leaned over and laid on top of him, holding Freed. Both of them were still breathing hard and sweaty from the pleasure. "You're so good," he said quietly, carelessly stroking Freed's hair and nuzzling the back of his neck. "So good," he breathed, almost too quiet to hear.

They laid there, splayed out, two men lost in the warm afterglow.

Freed breathed slowly and deeply through his nose as his spent cock shrank, shriveling up the filled condom. Laxus was still inside him, although soft and slipping slowly out. Still, they laid together, not wanting to separate this intense connection.

Laxus wished they could stay. If they were home, they would toss the condoms, maybe wash up—maybe not—and cuddle in bed, falling asleep in exhaustion. That was not possible here. They needed to leave before they got caught, if someone had not already heard them and reported it to Flare. Considering she was not bursting in now that things had settled down, there was a good chance that the stagehands were busy with the next demonstration and Flare was still occupied with Virgo.

Still, they needed to move, clean up somehow, and get dressed. With reluctance, Laxus pushed himself up and gazed down at his defeated incubus disguised as an angel.

"You okay?"

Freed was floating. The world was black and endless. It was luminous and tiny.

"Freed, are you okay?" came a stronger question.

The world was Laxus. The only thing here with him in this world of expansive nothingness was Laxus. They were a duality, joined into a unity, floating together in nihility, for all of eternity.

"Snap if you're okay!"

Freed's mind cleared a little. Snap? There had been a question. Was he okay? Laxus had no clue just how _okay_ he was. In this moment, Freed felt like maybe he really was that divine creature Laxus called him. Maybe he was an angel, and Laxus his god. God asked a question. Was he okay? God gave an order. Snap. Once, yes, he was okay, he was better than okay, he was floating in heaven on pure white wings.

Struggling, Freed snapped once.

Laxus sighed in relief. Freed was really out of it, but he needed to ease him back into reality. "I'm going to pull out."

Freed just hummed a vague acknowledgement, but he did not know what that meant until he felt Laxus' cock slide back and leave him. He cried out through the gag. No! He was alone now. One became two. Binary fission. He was no longer a part of this god. He felt so empty, and yet … freedom! Individuality. It was like rebirth, still floating, not in heaven anymore. More like an amniotic sack, ready to exist, but not fully developed. Not quite yet. He was floating.

Or was it falling now?

Falling from heaven, ready to be born as a human.

Falling…

"It's okay. I've got you. Come on."

Was he flying again? No, Laxus was holding him, helping him to sit on the edge of the counter. Freed was limp and lost between phases of spiritual and corporeal.

"I'm going to take this off. Close your eyes."

Eyes? He had forgotten about eyes in this dark world. He felt elastic tightness around his head come off, and there was light on the other side of his eyelids.

"Can you see?"

Slowly, feeling blinded by brilliance, Freed blinked his eyes. He wondered if this was how overwhelming it was for an infant to see the world for the first time. His vision was blurred and his eyes drifted aimlessly.

"Look at me."

Freed's eyes focused on the voice, and his first clear view were two blue eyes gazing upon him. He blinked some more to clear his vision. Laxus! It was like seeing him for the first time.

He remembered that day, nervously stepping into a gay strippers club just to see what the big deal was. Loke raved about groups of college guys going to strip clubs, but Freed felt uncomfortable around women. He thought he might comprehend the appeal at one with male dancers, but those were usually aimed at entertaining ladies. Despite his long hair, Freed doubted he could pull off looking like a woman, certainly not sounding female with his low voice. So he specifically went to the only gay strip club in the area. He watched "Ice Prince" dance, and while it was certainly erotic, it also seemed rather silly. He was about to leave, until he heard AC/DC playing _Thunderstruck_. At least the music was good, he could stay for the song if nothing else. Then the yellow flashed, and on that stage stood Thor!

He would never forget that first view, how "Thor" made his pulse race within seconds and made him so hard by the end of the song, he had to rush off to the restroom limping. For a whole month, he masturbated to that song, replaying the slow strip in his head. Just hearing it on the radio made his groin ache.

He used to wonder what color those eyes were, looking orange in the club lights. Now he knew just how blue they were.

His electric blue eyes! Freed gazed up into them now and smiled.

Laxus saw Freed's gaze finally focus on him. "Good," he said, stroking the disheveled hair but feeling the strap for the ball gag. "I'll take this off."

He unsnapped the gag and slowly, mindful of how long it had been wrenching Freed's jaw open, he eased the ball out. Freed gagged a little as it left his mouth. He could finally swallow, and his jaw suddenly felt just how sore it was from being forced open. He opened and closed his jaw, working out the stiffness, while struggling to swallow.

"You okay?" Laxus asked again.

A grunt came out, but Freed quickly remembered that he had the ability of speech. He got only a syllable out before his throat stuck to itself in dryness.

"Nod," Laxus commanded.

Freed knew he could speak, but his face hurt too much. He nodded his head, opting to remain mute a little longer. At least he hummed, "Mm-hmm."

Laxus smiled and caressed his cheeks, helping to rub out his jaws. "That's good," he whispered, glad to see him slowly coming back. He massaged right along the jawline, hoping to ease away the stiffness so he could hear Freed's voice again.

Now that he was sure Freed was all right, Laxus set about tending to both of them. He removed the condoms and wrapped them up in a massive wad of tissues. He moistened a washcloth that was tossed into their supplies and wiped them both down, starting with the dried drool all over Freed's chin, neck, and flaking on his chest, then a soothing but cold wash over the sweaty skin.

He undid the buckles to the winged harness and slipped the entire thing off from Freed's shoulders. The leather left faint pink marks in Freed's pale skin, and Laxus wiped the washcloth over them, soothing the lines with the cold moistness, then warming the skin back up with his lips.

Freed sat on the counter in a daze, watching Laxus wash him. Happiness surged over him. Laxus could torture him mentally, but emotionally, he had never been cruel. He pampered Freed, especially in these moments after a scene was over. The sex was fun, but the aftercare was when he felt deeply bonded together. As Laxus finished washing his skin and used the towel to clear any cum on his cock, Freed smiled at the tenderness shown to that sensitive area. His tired eyes watched as Laxus cleaned away the residue, then finally cleaned himself. He always took care of Freed before caring for himself.

"Can you stand up yet? Turn around. I'll clean your ass."

Freed felt the ground, but his legs did not yet work. Laxus had to spin him around. The cold moisture on the burn from paddling felt good, and Laxus was extra gentle as he parted the butt cheeks in order to get the lube and any filth off of Freed's ass.

"Okay, all done," he said. He put the washcloth in a plastic ziplock bag he packed as well, knowing he did not want a wet and contaminated cloth mixed in with sex toys.

Freed's legs suddenly gave out, but before he could fall more than a few inches, he was swept up into strong arms.

"I've got you. Are you okay to stand?"

Freed thought about it, but he shook his head. He doubted his legs would support him.

"Okay." Laxus lifted Freed up into his arms again to carry him. "What position works best for you?"

"Hn … d- … down," he answered, his throat still parched and gravelly.

"Was the couch okay?"

Freed nodded, not trusting his voice to be strong enough.

Laxus would not say Freed _weighed nothing_. The bastard was lean, solid muscle! He was tall, long-limbed, and Laxus was terrified of catching all that hair on something. Still, he managed to carry Freed across the dressing room to the couch.

Freed looked up to see the bottom of that sharp chin. "Laxus," he whispered.

"I have you," he promised gently.

Freed sighed. _I have you_. And he had Laxus. They had each other. Knowing that made him smile with glowing happiness and curl up against the swirling tattoos on Laxus' chest.

"You did real good," Laxus praised. He knelt by the couch so he could set Freed down gently. He still hissed when his pinkened buttocks touched the cushions. "Get on your side," Laxus suggested.

Freed weakly rolled himself, and once he was free from Laxus' arms, the large man helped him to move, lightly shifting his hair out of the way and grabbing a throw pillow for Freed's head.

"Is that okay?"

"Uh- … -huh," he mumbled.

"That's good."

"How … are y- … you?" Freed muttered. His lips felt over-stretched and sore.

Laxus chuckled. How was he? Words could not begin to describe it. "I'm doing great," he said instead. He leaned over and playfully rubbed Freed's nose with his own. "Incredible!"

Freed smiled in sleepy bliss. "D- … cu- … you…" His throat was not working again.

"Don't try to talk too much yet," Laxus warned.

In stubbornness, Freed gulped down as much saliva as he could and tried again. "Y- … you … khh … ugh … y-you liked?"

Laxus stared at him. Was he mad? Did he fuck his brains out? _You liked? _The hell sort of question was that? Did he _like it_?

"Of course I did!" he exclaimed, then laughed and ruffled up Freed's hair. "Silly."

"Y-yo- … omp … khh…"

"I said don't talk too much! I'll get you some water. How's your ass?"

Freed chuckled weakly. What did he expect him to say? It felt fine? If Freed said that, Laxus would certainly hit him far harder, or worse, take it as meaning he did not fully pleasure Freed. So he told the truth. "It's … sore."

Laxus smirked and kissed his forehead. "Of course it is."

Freed had to laugh. That same reply, as if Laxus already knew the answer to his questions and just wanted to hear it for himself.

"Do you need a blanket?"

Freed felt so cold without Laxus draped over him, or held in his arms, so he nodded. He felt like a child, a baby, and he wanted his blankie.

"All right, I'll get one. I'll be right back. Stay right there."

"Laxus!" Freed grabbed his arm in a strong gasp considering he could not stand on his own feet yet. He did not want to be apart, not for a single minute. He knew he was helpless right now, an infant, unable even to move on his own.

"It's okay," Laxus promised him, patting his gripping hand. "No one will come in here."

Laxus stood and walked to the door. Down the way, he saw Ren. Laxus briefly wondered if the stagehand had heard them, but that had to wait. He had a sub he needed to take care of, and everyone in this club knew just how vital that was to prevent sub-drop.

"Ren!"

He turned around and looked a little startled. Then Laxus saw him pull earbuds off. If Ren had heard them, he had been purposely ignoring their noises. Laxus made a mental note to give Ren a big tip in thanks.

"Can you guard him?" he asked, thumbing back to Freed.

"Is he okay?"

"He needs a blanket."

Ren nodded. It was a common need for submissives. "They're down the hall, same closet where they put the fancy tablecloths."

"Thanks. No one enters here, got it?"

"He'll be safe," he promised. Ren smiled to see the normally gruff bouncer being a protective and loving partner. This was the best part of BDSM, the gentleness that happened afterward that brought dominant and submissive closer than any mundane emotions.

Laxus hurried off, not wanting to leave Freed for too long.

Inside the room, Freed became more and more aware of himself and his surroundings. His collar was still on, but nothing else. The winged harness rested on the counter. The golden cock cage was still on the ground where Laxus let it fall. Freed reached up and touched the white collar. He was not the Green Angel anymore, but this collar showed he still belonged to Laxus.

He sighed in happiness, glad Laxus at least left the collar on. He began to drift off, sleepy and happy, filled with so much warmth and joy. Life seemed to suck the soul out of him, struggles at work, high expectations from family, all the stress of everyday life. Laxus filled in what the real world etched away.

He was truly reborn, whole and untainted in this moment.

"Are you falling asleep on me?"

His eyes opened. Had he slept? He could hardly differentiate between fantasy and reality yet.

"Tired," he whispered.

"Of course you are," Laxus said smugly. "I fucked everything out of you, didn't I?"

Freed gazed up into those electric blue eyes. "You fucked everything _into_ me." He was whole and pure because of this incredible man.

Laxus was not exactly sure what Freed meant, but it sounded deeply spiritual, the way he said it with those eyes gleaming in adoration.

"Here." Laxus pulled forth a pale blue blanket. He draped it over Freed's naked body, tucked it around close, making sure his feet were wrapped up, and tugged it up to his chin.

"Mmmh … that's nice," Freed sighed. The blanket had even been warmed up.

Laxus grinned to see the childlike innocence in his face and smoothed down his hair. "I got the fuzziest one they had, just for you."

Freed giggled and snuggled down into the blanket. He could stay wrapped up like this, with Laxus stroking him like a sleepy child, all weekend. He wanted to remain in this puerile innocence and defenselessness. Youth had been gleaming and carefree; the adult world was cold and stressful. He wanted to linger in this nascent state for as long as possible.

Laxus saw that Freed was drifting off to sleep again. As adorable as that was, they could not stay here forever. He needed to get Freed through this phase. Before the night was over, they had to leave here, make it back home, and then they could spend tomorrow slowly recovering. Both of them needed it. Tonight had been intense, and they both needed to avoid the emotional drop that could happen afterward.

Laxus grabbed Freed and pulled him up enough so he could sit on the couch with Freed in his arms. He wanted—needed—to hold him, cuddle him, as an apology for putting him through all this, to reassure Freed of his love and reassure himself that, despite his sadistic side, he would never dream of truly harming this man. Laxus needed that for his own swirling emotions.

However, Freed let out a mewl of pain, and Laxus froze. Pain in the moment was one thing, but seeing him in pain afterward worried him.

"Is this okay?" he asked sharply.

Freed wiggled around in Laxus' arms. "My … butt … hurts."

Laxus relaxed a little. He really had gone far tonight. He would definitely make up for it on Sunday. "What if we roll you this way?" He carefully rolled Freed to face him on his side with his butt settled between his knees so there was no pressure on the sore parts.

"That's better," he sighed in happiness.

Freed liked this position because he could nuzzle up against Laxus' chest and feel the warmth of his skin. He slipped one hand out of the blanket and traced the tattoos. He remembered their first time together, when he woke up in the late morning after being pleasured all night until sunrise. He had traced these tattoos then, and Laxus told him that, since they were covering scars, the scarred flesh was dull, while the edges of the scars were highly sensitive.

_"I didn't say to stop. I meant to kiss beside the scar, not on top. That way I can feel it. I like to feel your lips."_

Even back then, Laxus could say surprisingly romantic things.

"Laxus?"

"Yeah?"

Freed looked up at him and smiled warmly. "I love you."

Laxus looked down, saw the tenderness in those tired eyes, and grinned at seeing Freed so open, so honest, despite all the pain and humility he just put him through. "I love you, too." He leaned over and just rested his lips on Freed's forehead. "I love you so much. You did such a good job."

Freed hummed in contentment. He felt warm in his blanket and in Laxus' arms. It was like being a child again, only … more loved. It was not nursemaids and nannies to care for him, just Laxus, and Laxus showed him genuine love and fidelity.

"How are you feeling?"

Freed stretched a little, still sore, but waking up from the daze of subspace. "Better."

"Okay. Gotta get you dressed."

Freed groaned petulantly and curled deeper into Laxus' chest in protest. "Don't wanna," he whined tiredly.

Laxus chuckled and stroked the green hair. "We can't sleep in here," he warned, but he liked seeing Freed so childlike and adorable. He almost wished they could stay like this, cuddling until morning, but they really did need to get dressed. "Well, I've done my part. Wanna sit around, watch some more?"

Freed thought about it while trying to stretch stiff muscles yet not wanting to leave Laxus' lap. "Nothing really new."

Nothing new? "Are you saying you've experience it all?" he teased. "Are you _bored_?"

Freed smiled mischievously and looked up at Laxus. "Hardly bored!"

Damn, he loved that sassy smile! "Good answer."

"But we have done most of that," he pointed out.

"Have we?" he smirked. "Well, maybe we need to do it again, from the very start." He traced his finger along Freed's collar. "Everything we've ever done, do again, in our own bed, our own place."

Freed closed his eyes and smiled. Everything they had ever done! Electro-stim, vibrating anal plugs, riding crop, floggers, paddles, handcuffs … He hummed sensually as his mind thought back to all the pleasures they had splurged in over the past few months and whispered drowsily, "I like that idea."

Laxus was also thinking about it all, from their first time together to tonight, all of it. He caressed Freed's smooth skin and said softly, "Of course you do."

Freed chuckled. The same answer as always, and he would never tire of hearing Laxus say it. However, as he stretched again, he felt pain in his rump and fatigue in his limbs. He glanced up at Laxus and asked sleepily, "Can we go home?"

He arched an eyebrow. "Can you drive?"

"Mmh … maybe?"

"Maybe? I don't think so, not where your head is." Laxus could see, Freed was absolutely in no condition to drive, and as the dominant, he had to make sure he got home safely. "We can call a cab."

"But my car!" he protested.

"We can get your car later. Where do you think your head is right now?"

Freed knew the answer, although he wanted to protest it. He curled into Laxus and yawned. "Still there."

"Yeah, still there," he agreed. He petted Freed's head, swearing he looked like a content overgrown kitten curled up like that. "You like when I send you there, huh?"

"Mm-hmm," Freed hummed, happy to stay in this wonderful alternate reality Laxus sent him to, where he was a child being pampered and not a whining, needy adult.

As for Laxus, he hoped Freed stayed this way a little longer. He kept stroking Freed's hair, even when he felt the lanky body go limp in his arms. Freed was asleep again, and Laxus let him rest. He knew they needed to leave the room before…

There was a soft knock at the door. Too late.

Flare peeked in, but instead of looking angry, she looked concerned. Laxus realized she did not know what the two of them had done. She was simply there to check on them.

"How is he?" she asked.

Laxus looked down at Freed, asleep and not even aware that someone had entered. "He's doing good. We'll need a cab."

"You don't drive?"

"No, of course not."

"Oh," she said in surprise. "All right. I can call it for you. It'll be about fifteen minutes." She realized Freed was not moving. "Will he be okay?"

Laxus touched Freed's head, and the young man jolted awake. "He will be."

"You can't carry him out naked, you know."

Laxus rolled his eyes. "I know. He'll be dressed."

Freed suddenly realized someone was with them. He yanked the blanket tighter around him and rolled into Laxus as if to hide.

"All right," Flare sighed, leaving it up to Laxus to know what was best for his submissive. "Fifteen minutes. That's usually about how long they take."

"Thanks, Flare." He caressed Freed's head. "You hear that?"

"Y-yeah," he said sleepily. "I can stand." He began to sit up, but he stopped as his body felt the overwhelming fatigue. "Uh … maybe," he corrected, flinching.

"Take it easy." Laxus shifted Freed to sit on the couch first while he rose to his feet. "You can keep the blanket around you for now. Come on." He took Freed's hand and pulled him up. The naked man let out a sleepy groan of protest, standing but not moving. "Come on, one foot in front of the other." Slowly, he pulled Freed just a few shuffling steps away from the couch. "You're doing good." He brought him over to the supply bag. "Okay, let's get your clothes on."

Laxus pulled out Freed's neatly folded clothes, but Freed let out a groan of complaint. He did not move and just glared at the pile.

Laxus smirked at his stubbornness. "Do you want me to dress you?"

"Mm-hmm," he hummed sleepily. The only move he made was to drop the blanket to the ground, not even handing it over.

"Lazy," Laxus chided, leaning over to pick the blanket up. He threw it over to the couch, then pulled forth the boxers Freed brought. "Here. One foot," he said, but he had to hoist up Freed's foot by the ankle just to get him to lift it. "Then the next," he said lightly, again lifting the ankle while Freed made no effort to help. "Okay. Shimmy that up. Come on."

Freed groaned. After being naked for so long, wearing clothing felt so restrictive. It was the _mature_ thing to do, and he still felt like being a child. As Laxus tried to lift the boxers up, Freed made no effort to help, not even spreading his legs a little.

"Come on!" Laxus said in a light insistence, yet Freed only pouted and grunted. "You little brat, come on. At least get your underwear on." With a sleepy groan, Freed widened his thighs so the fabric could slide between his legs. "Okay, ready for trousers?"

"Hh … hyeah," he croaked out.

His voice sounded awful. "You okay?"

Freed flinched and tried to swallow. "Still need water."

"Oh shit, that's right!" He had completely forgotten. Laxus reached over to the supply bag again. "Here. Good thing I brought a water bottle. Here you go."

He handed the bottle over, but Freed just looked at it. Laxus realized it was closed. The bratty boy was not even going to open the bottle for himself. Laxus twisted it open, lifted Freed's hand, and put the bottle into his fingers.

At least Freed did take hold of the water bottle, but he had to use two hands, feeling too weak to hold it with just one. He brought the bottle to his lips and began to gulp down mouthfuls.

"Slow. Slow down," Laxus warned.

Freed took a break, but quickly tipped the bottle back again, guzzling down water.

"Sips!" Laxus shouted, yanking the bottle from his lips. "Just sips."

"Yeah," he nodded, but Freed tipped the bottle back again, taking a large gulp.

Laxus swiped the water bottle out of his weak grasp. "No, that's enough."

"I'm still thirsty," he whined.

"Just … sips!" he emphasized sternly.

Freed pulled back with a frown, but he saw sternness in those blue eyes. His master had been giving orders, and he had been disobeying. He lowered his head in contrition. "Y-yes, master."

Laxus snapped at him, "I'm doing this for your own good, y'know. You don't wanna gulp."

"I know." He really did know. Gulping could make him sick. His body was in a delicate state. The excessive thirst was proof of that. So soon after such a deep, emotional scene, he could easily get nauseated. Laxus was simply watching out for him. "Just … thirsty."

Laxus knew thirst was common with BDSM. Especially how much Freed had drooled, and the lack of liquid going down his throat, plus all the sweating and general chemical change in his body from the altered mental state of subspace, he needed to rehydrate. However, it was up to Laxus to sanely decide what was healthy for Freed and what would make him sick. He set the water bottle aside.

"Let's get your pants on," he decided.

Freed gazed needfully at the water, but he could not fight Laxus, certainly not in his current state. All he could do was agree quietly.

Laxus shook out the slacks, and at least this time Freed obediently lifted his legs, trying to work with him, although he had to hold onto Laxus for balance. He looked sleepy and dizzy, so Laxus tried to keep him steady as he slipped the cotton fabric up those slender legs.

"There you go. Get you nice and belted in there." The belt was still through the loops, and Laxus tugged it together, not too tightly. "Is that okay?"

Freed's throat still hurt, but he answered hoarsely. "It's good."

"Okay." He pulled out the shirt next and shook it out. Leave it to Freed to wear a silk dress shirt to a fetish club. "Your shirt will be untucked. Is that fine?"

"Yeah." He liked that Laxus was even asking for his approval on how to be dressed. It made Freed know how much he was being pampered despite being dressed against his childish protests.

"Okay, let's get this on." He pulled the sleeves on easily enough, with Freed standing there like the rich heir he was, allowing his servant to dress him. However, Laxus' large fingers fumbled with buttoning the dress shirt. "Dammit, so many buttons!" he shouted in frustration. "Next time just wear a teeshirt."

He got it buttoned enough to be closed over Freed's chest and stomach, but left the tail out and loose. He realized the collar needed to come off. Wearing that in public would raise questions. Freed did not protest; he also realized everything needed to come off while they were still in the club.

"All right, there you go." He placed the collar into the supply bag. He liked this white collar, something they had both picked out … a collar just for them! Laxus picked up the water bottle and handed it to Freed as a treat for obeying. "A little bit more water. Sips this time!" he warned.

Freed wanted to obey and just sip, but the cool water in his throat made him crave more. Sipping meant less water, so he clutched the bottle to him and kept sipping more and more.

"Okay, that's enough." He reached out for the bottle, and when Freed tried to drink more, Laxus snatched it away again. "That's enough," he said gently. "Feeling better?"

His throat was dry but not as pained anymore. His body felt fatigued, but in a good way. His brain was clearing up, but with it came a feeling of serenity. Freed smiled at the feeling of warmth smoldering inside his chest.

"Incredible!" he whispered.

"Good." Laxus smiled and stroked the long hair. "I'm glad," he said, gazing down at his lover, now dressed in plain clothes but still just as perfect as the slave with wings. His hand stopped, and he just gazed at Freed, feeling overwhelmed. "Man, you…" He shut his mouth and shook his head.

"What?" Freed asked curiously.

Laxus looked aside and blushed, not wanting to say it out loud. Yet as he looked back down and into those turquoise eyes with their long lashes, the words slipped out.

"You're breathtaking," he said in awe, and quickly laughed in embarrassment. "And my God, that's like the shittiest thing in the world to say to a guy, but…" His laughs subsided, leaving an earnest pang in his eyes. "…you just look so incredible when you're like this," he said, tucking back a strand of green hair, "when you're lost in that space." He bit his lip, trying to hold his emotions in. Still, he whispered plaintively, "You look incredible."

Freed was stunned to see the sadist so overwhelmed. He whispered Laxus' name, but he was unsure what to say. He felt embarrassed, but also deeply happy. For Laxus to tell him that, he knew there was a well of love bubbling up inside this godly man.

Laxus could not contain himself any longer. He grabbed Freed into a powerful hug. "I love you so much," he whispered, clutching Freed to him.

They kissed, gently, passionately. No wild claiming anymore; they had claimed one another enough. Now, lust was sated, and pure love remain unquenchable. To Freed, after such a rebirth, it was like the first time their lips ever touched. Each kiss was fresh and perfect, adoring him, pampering him, letting him know how loved he was by this incredible man.

They could have spent the rest of the night tenderly making out, except there was another knock on the door. Flare opened and saw the two wrapped together, not as a kinky couple, but as lovers. She was used to walking in on naked people or couples in the midst of heated passion, but she blushed at interrupting such gentle, doting fidelity.

"Cab's here," she said softly.

Laxus pulled away from Freed's lips with a soft growl of annoyance. "Thanks," he said gruffly.

Flare left swiftly with pink on her cheeks. Laxus walked aside, trying to regain his composure. He finished packing their supply bag, being cautious with the winged harness and bagging the messy cock cage to be sterilized later. He handed the feather mask back to Freed. Until they left the club, he should remain in disguise, especially since at least one person here knew him. Freed carefully placed the mask back on, checking the mirror to make sure his facial features did not show enough to blow his anonymity.

"Okay, I think we're all packed away," Laxus decided. He swung the bag onto his shoulder and turned to Freed. "Ready to go home?"

Home. Once, _going home_ meant leaving Laxus, and that was the worst thing in the world. Now, _going home_ meant going to bed together, curling up into an embrace, and listening to Laxus' soft snores just before letting sleep win over.

"Yeah," he whispered, smiling at the prospect of staying all night and morning with Laxus in his bed.

"Good. Come on." Laxus grabbed his hand and pulled him along, eager to get out of the club now and get into some privacy.

Freed took two steps before crying out in pain and yanking free from Laxus' hand. The blond spun around in horror by the sound of agony.

"You okay?" he asked sharply.

It took Freed a moment. He tested his feet again. Moving his hips hurt the tender ass. The fabric of his boxers, despite opting for silk, shot stinging needles of pain across the swollen flesh. He was still fatigued and ached in so many ways.

"Slow," he warned, limping forward.

"Okay, as slow as you need." Laxus offered his arm, walking beside Freed and guiding him rather than pulling him forward. They left the room and went through the hall. Freed continued to limp and placed one hand behind him, rubbing out the sting in his rump. Laxus scoffed lightly. "I hardly hit you."

Freed gawked up at him. Hardly … hit? "It _hurt_!" he cried out, not caring that he sounded whiny.

Laxus just smirked at the prim and mighty Freed Justine acting like such a crybaby. "But it wasn't too bad?" he asked, just to be sure.

Freed shrank down. "N-no," he whispered, and a smile struggled up to his lips, slowly becoming a sly simper accompanied by a devilish gleam in his eyes. "You know where to hit me."

Laxus cocked an eyebrow down at his lover. "Damn straight I do!"

He nodded as they walked by Ren, and Laxus handed him the key to the dressing room. The club music was ahead of them, colored lights, noisy crowds, and the sounds of fleshy impact from the next presentation being given. Before they reentered the exhibition, Laxus jerked to a stop.

"Hold up a second."

Freed began to hum in question, but suddenly he was slammed against the hallway wall. Laxus was right up against him, crushing him with powerful, wild, snarling kisses that made any aches or stiffness vanish instantly. Freed felt out of control all over again, forced to surrender to those kisses. He melted, letting Laxus take him, all of him, anything he wanted.

"I told you, I'd praise these lips," Laxus said between kisses. "You were incredible," he declared with another kiss. "Really!" he insisted, not stopping.

Suddenly, Freed reached around him, holding the back of Laxus' head and pulling him to stop the rain of kisses. Then Laxus felt Freed's tongue. He slowed down, opened his mouth, and allowed the kiss to deepen. He groaned at the feel of Freed's tongue slithering inside. He let Freed explore him, let his tongue lap around inside, and tasted him. Such a kiss was so powerful, only a strong man like Freed could kiss him like that.

When they pulled back, Laxus had to wonder who was doing the attacking now. It might be Freed shoved up against the wall, but it was Laxus whose knees were ready to buckle as his head felt dizzy from the kiss.

"Thank you," Freed said coyly.

Laxus barked out a laugh. "Thank you?" he asked.

He shook his head. His submissive was thanking him? This gorgeous angel from heaven was thanking _him_, some wretched animal who debauched him and broke his halo? Yet his blue-green eyes insisted: thank you.

This man!

Laxus knew he should be the one thanking Freed for letting him have this night, praising him for enduring far past his limits, and worshiping him for the love he showed. He cupped Freed's cheek, but Laxus could think of no words. He was bad at words. He caressed the pale face instead and smiled reverently.

"Let's go," he urged, pulling Freed to his side as an equal.

Freed wrapped around his arm and turned with Laxus as they stepped out into alluring lights and erotic music of the fetish club.

**Next Chapter: "Night's End"**

* * *

_A/N: I don't know if I ever directly stated that Laxus' theme song as a stripper was _Thunderstruck_. Well, now it's clear. He stripped to AC/DC. I don't own that song. I do own nearly every AC/DC album, though, haha._

_Here's CTT fan art of an alternate universe to "South Pole Club," where Fraxus and Gratsu are all strip dancers.  
sass-queen-justine =dot= tumblr =dot= com/post/134629415857_

_Audio drama: chirb. it/rq80Nw_


	39. Night's End

Chapter 39

**Night's End**

Freed blinked as he stepped back out into the club. The lights were focused on the stage, where someone was giving a presentation on how to prevent and deal with sub-drop. Lots of aftercare was key, and knowing what sort of aftercare a submissive needed was also important before play started.

Laxus paused and watched the person on stage. Aftercare! Before he met Freed, he never once dealt with aftercare besides throwing a blanket at someone or handing them some chocolate. The submissive had to prepare anything they needed on their own, and Laxus only handed it over. He never cuddled or followed up with them. He remembered how it had felt so strange, and yet so natural, after his first night with Freed, how they had cuddled together in bed and fallen asleep. Now, he was holding onto Freed, pampering him, he got him a blanket and water, talking him through it. He glanced down at his masked lover and smiled. Freed had changed him, and Laxus squeezed him a little tighter in happiness.

"Hey, I need to grab something real quick."

Freed looked up in confusion. "What? We have everything, right?" He glanced at the duffel bag filled with their supplies and now holding his club clothes and wings.

"Not quite. That impression paddle I used," he said, lightly caressing Freed's ass and getting a yelp out of him. "That's mine."

Freed's eyes widened. "Y-yours?"

"Did you like it?" he asked slyly.

Freed flinched just remembering the agonizingly hard hit. "I … dunno. It hurt. Like, a _lot_." His butt was still painful, despite Laxus rubbing lotion on it and tending to him.

Laxus shrugged. "Well, it's ours. It was a secret, bought it earlier this week." His hand drifted down Freed's spine, but he came to a stop just above the belt. "I like reading that you're _mine_, right there on your ass."

Freed shivered, but he firmly demanded. "Well, if you ever use it again, don't do it after such a long paddling session, and that's the _last_ thing that hits me."

Laxus laughed softly at how Freed could order him around like this. "Are those your conditions?"

"Yes," he said sternly. "I don't mind, but that really did hurt."

Laxus leaned over and nuzzled the side of Freed's neck, whispering, "My apologies." He kissed his lips. "I'll make it up to you."

Make it up? Freed melted a little at the ways Laxus could _make it up_. "Then … then maybe I should use it on _you_," he said with arrogance.

Laxus laughed in amusement. "Have you ever swung a paddle?"

"Uh … n-no," he confessed. He had not swung anything more than a golf club.

"Then I ain't letting you swing one at me. Did you listen to my presentation? You can seriously hurt someone if you do it wrong."

A devilish gleam entered Freed's eyes. "Then maybe you should train me."

Laxus felt a shiver at the way Freed looked at him. His angelic incubus! "Now you're just getting cocky."

Cocky, huh? "You freed it, you deal with it."

Laxus threw his head back and laughed at his sassiness. "You little bitch. For that, maybe I _will_ train you," he said, pulling Freed up against him, "Hands-on." Both hands caressed down and came to rest over Freed's rump. "Paddling you more." He squeezed Freed's ass until he saw the pain in his masked face. "I'm sure you're bound to learn."

Freed let out a moan from pain and excitement. He felt like Laxus would have taken him again if they were back at home. He saw another couple watching them, a master and slave both smiling at their sensual display. Laxus followed Freed's gaze, saw the voyeurs, and let Freed go. He was not about to show off how sexy Freed could be when he was aroused, not like this, in plain street clothes and no chastity belt.

"But you ain't hitting me with it," Laxus said, taking a step back. "I ain't into that shit."

Freed felt dizzy all over again from Laxus' sheer dominance. "O-okay. Sorry. Just teasing."

"You're a sassy bitch, and I like that about you." Laxus tilted Freed's chin and gazed down at him. "I'll let you tie me up if it gets ya off, but I'm not a masochist." He pulled his hand away and looked aside, eying this building filled with all sorts of kinks and fetishes. "If you hit me on the ass, I'd probably punch you out of pure instinct and then feel like shit afterward."

"I get it," Freed insisted. "Sorry."

He kissed Freed's forehead and looked seriously into his eyes. "If you don't like it, I won't use it. We'll keep it as a memento of tonight."

Laxus looked ready to go now, but Freed grabbed his sleeve. The blond looked back and saw the white mask lowered, hand trembling.

"L-Laxus? Did … did you paddle Virgo with that?"

"Fuck no!" he sneered. "The club has one that says _Bitch_ across it. I used that on her. That paddle has only touched one ass, and that's the one I've marked as _mine_."

Freed smiled in relief to hear that.

Laxus wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. "Freed, I would never use one of our toys on another person. Also, I don't know if you were aware of this, but you could have used a safeword on using her in that demonstration."

Freed gawked up at him. "I … I could have?"

Laxus ran a hand over his spiky hair. "Fuck, I knew you were holding back. _Of course_ you could! Anything I do, anywhere, at any time, in the bedroom or here or _anywhere_, if you're really not into it, you can end it. You have full control in what we do."

"But … it was for work," he protested.

"Fuck work! Fuck this club, fuck any job I've ever had or will have. I don't care if it's personal or professional, if you're against something, use the fucking safeword." He sighed and ran his fingers over his scalp again. "I happened to mention to Flare that you couldn't get through the paddling in dress rehearsals, and she's the one who invited Virgo to fill in so you wouldn't feel like you have to push your limits just so I could get through the demonstration. I wasn't all that happy about it, but you never said to stop."

Meekly, Freed admitted, "I … I was jealous, but … but I was a little glad she was there. I was scared I'd never make it to the end. I was … _uncomfortable_ with it, but I think even if I knew I could have ended it, I wouldn't have." The jealousy made things even more intense, so although Freed did not like those darker feelings getting in the way, he never once wanted to end it. Then he glared up in anger. "Just next time, tell me! You big idiot!" He gave Laxus a light punch to the chest. "I was mad," he huffed, sticking out his lower lip. "I'm still a little mad at you."

"Yeah, sorry I kept you in the dark. I won't again." He gave Freed a light peck on the lips to appease him. "I'll go get the paddle, then we'll go home. I'll pamper you all day tomorrow."

Freed folded his arms disdainfully. "I demand a hot bath with that scented oil you hate."

"Che! Fine. I'll even comb your hair, make you hot cocoa, and serve you breakfast in bed, if you want. Tomorrow is your day to be spoiled."

Freed hummed mischievously. "Mmh, I think I could really push that envelope."

Laxus saw the aristocrat in this man again. "You're allowed to … _this_ time." A spoiled rich boy like him probably knew precisely how he liked to be pampered, and Laxus wanted to thoroughly indulge him. For now, he kissed Freed's cheek. "Be right back."

Laxus took the duffel bag and went around to the other side of the stage. He talked with one of the stagehands, who handed over the paddle but seemed to be congratulating him.

Freed stood in his spot, looking around. No longer in BDSM gear, he could really take in the club's atmosphere. He saw some wearing perfectly normal clothes, and some … well, there was a wide variety of fetish clothes. Freed even saw a few that interested him. He almost wanted to go up to the people and ask where they bought it, but he was not too sure if that was okay. After all, this was not like one of his parents' soirées where asking a woman where she got her purse was practically a social expectation.

A woman in a red corset and a whip coiled at her hip slid up to Freed. "Loved the presentation, Angel. It was … invigorating!"

Freed jolted and pulled back. "Th-thanks!" he squeaked. Watching from afar was okay, but he felt intimidated to have this dominatrix right in front of him. Suddenly, he wondered just how many people had gotten aroused watching him being paddled and listening to his moans.

The woman moved on, just a quick note of appreciation on her way to the bar. Freed relaxed again, glad he was still wearing his mask. All of these people knew _precisely_ how his body looked, but his face at least had been covered.

Freed listened in on the new presentation.

"The body does not normally produce huge amounts of endorphins like it does during a scene. The endorphins released during the scene will also activate opiate receptors, which allow you to process pain easier. The side effect is that opiate receptors can inhibit other things in the body aside from pain receptors, things such as seratonin, which affects appetite, sleep, mood, memory, learning, temperature regulation, sexual behavior, cardiovascular function, muscle contraction, endocrine regulation, and depression.

"Sounds familiar? All things associated with sub-drop. The endorphins' affect on seratonin levels during a scene causes many of the aftereffects that need to be dealt with in aftercare. It is responsible for the severity of the drop phenomenon some encounter, anywhere from immediately after ending a scene to up to 270 hours later. Yes, my friends, that is eleven and a quarter days later! Although rare, drop can occur over a week after a scene. That's why you have to be vigilant of what your body is doing, and a dominant needs to follow up and be attuned with their sub's health.

"The most important reason for aftercare is to assist the body in readjusting to its normal state, particularly in regards to the overdoses of hormonal secretion during a scene. Frankly, it is not healthy _not_ to do it.

"So, how to flush your body of this chemical cocktail: water! If you remember only one thing from my rambling, remember that. Hydrate! Both sub and dom need to rehydrate after a scene, so that neither of them ends up dropping. Even if you are the sort who does not want to be cuddled, pampered, or like aftercare, drinking lots of water can reduce the effects and length of time of sub-drop.

"Along with dehydration after a scene, you lose potassium. Eating strawberries or something salty can stop the muscle cramps associated with potassium levels.

"Sugar! Although most people have a sugar drop after a scene, be aware that diabetics and hypoglycemics can react exactly the opposite. That's why it's important to share any health concerns with your dominant or sub. You don't want a sugar spike and then your dom tries to feed you chocolate!

"Lastly, all of this causes the body stress, which is where the cuddles come into play. BDSM puts your body into a controlled stressed state, your neurotransmitters go all wonky, and so it is necessary to break the cyclical process. Human touch, hugs, laughter, and orgasms—they're not just pleasurable, they are healthy for you—all aid in breaking that stress cycle.

"When it comes to aftercare, preventing sub-drop involves figuring out what makes you happy, or even just calms you down from the soaring high. That's the key: what balances _you_? What are your body's individual needs to combat the chemical roller coaster of post-scene readjustment? Because the higher you fly, the harder you fall. So think about those things, listen to your body, and work together even days after a scene as your body regains its balance after you've been taken to heaven and back."

The audience applauded, and Freed clapped along although he had missed the majority of it. Still, the discussion on neurotransmitters and endorphins sounded interesting. He never really stopped to think about all the internal effects BDSM did to the body. He knew it made his heart race, made him sweat, sent his mind to a level beyond reality, but that was all hormones and chemicals. It was scientifically fascinating what the human body could do when being pleasured, and what things caused pleasure.

As the presenter gathered his things and the crowd milled about, Freed glanced over and saw Laxus still on the other side of the stage. Now Flare was chatting with him … and her hands were all over Laxus!

Freed let out a cry of shock. "What … is she…?"

One of Flare's hands was cupping Laxus' arm muscle, and with the other hand she drew a lazy line up his chest with her red-painted fingernail. "Well, Laxus, that was … _wonderful_ to watch."

Freed let out a huff of anger. No one flirted with his master! He stomped over, edging through the crowd, and yanked away the arm Flare was holding.

"Hey!" he snapped, glaring at her, ready to challenge her, even if she was the goddamn dungeon mistress of this club.

Laxus glanced down with a raised eyebrow. "Hey, Freed."

Flare simpered, smiling slyly at Freed. What an adorably protective slave! Not many slaves also acted as bodyguards. She stepped back from Laxus. "I'll leave you two alone," she said, and she turned away gracefully, walking on her stilettos through the crowd, weaving through milling kinksters.

Freed still glared at her back and kept a tight hold onto Laxus' arm. '_Seriously, I leave this oaf alone for five minutes and women are all over him!_'

"What?" asked Laxus when he saw how Freed was bristling like a wet cat.

His angry gaze turned up to those electric blue eyes. "Don't you think she was a little … too close?"

"Whuh?"

Freed scoffed to himself. Of course Laxus was utterly clueless! Idiot. Big dummy oaf who can't protect himself from such blatant flirting! The guy needed a bodyguard just to keep away admirers.

Finally, it dawned onto Laxus, and he chuckled softly. Such an adorably jealous angel! "I dunno," he said in an arrogant tone. "Maybe she doesn't understand." He cupped Freed's chin and pulled his masked face up. "It goes both ways between us."

Now Freed was the one in confusion. Both ways? "Huh?"

"Well, I just showed to all these people that you're mine. Maybe they all need to realize…" He leaned right into that white mask. "…I'm yours."

Freed's heart leaped for a moment at that sensually low voice. Still, he was mad. "Do they not realize that?" he grumbled.

Laxus gave a shrug. "Some of them are … open-minded."

Freed knew what he meant. Although many people in the BDSM and LGBT communities were monogamous, many others had multiple partners. Polyamory, polyfidelity, swinging, open relationships, casual sex, group marriage: there were many varieties to non-monogamy. Even people who did not associate as LGBT nor were into kink at all still preferred this sort of interpersonal relationship. That was fine, people found happiness in sex and love in whatever ways worked for them … just not when it came to _his_ boyfriend!

"Well, I don't like that," he declared stubbornly.

Laxus was still leaned into his face, and he smoothed back a wild strand of green hair. In a low, taunting voice, he said, "Then do something about it."

An imperious smirk rose on his face. "I will!"

Swift as a rapier, Freed grabbed Laxus, yanked him down, and sucked on the side of his neck. If this oaf could not deal with flirts on his own, Freed would mark him! He would claim Laxus, just as Laxus had publicly claimed him.

"Ah!" yelled Laxus. He hissed in pleasure from the feel of Freed's lips and groaned, "Yeeeah!"

His angel was marking him, claiming him … _wanting_ him! A sinner like him, being marked by a perfect celestial being! It made him shiver, knowing Freed wanted him so much.

Then he felt more. Teeth!

"Oww! Freed! Fuck!" he yelled. The pain increased, until finally Laxus shoved him off. His hand went up to his aching neck. He felt wetness. "God, am I bleeding?"

Freed wiped his lips smugly. "No."

He checked his fingers but there was only saliva. "Shit!"

He seriously thought Freed was going to bite out his jugular! As the pain faded to an ache, he felt rather proud of Freed. That took guts! It also meant Freed wanted him exclusively to that degree, to mark him right here in the middle of the club. He rubbed a finger over the sore spot and smirked.

"Does it show?"

"Mm-hmm." Freed licked his lips, loving the sight of that mark. No way could Laxus hide that, not without a scarf.

"Good." Laxus grabbed him into a hug. "I'm all yours, Freed. No one else but you."

"I believe you." He traced the mark, still damp from his lips. "I just want them to know.

"I don't mind. Hell, maybe I should put a collar on. _Property of Freed._"

Freed nibbled his lower lip. "That could be hot."

Laxus caressed Freed's throat where the collar had been. "Maybe matching collars some day."

Freed's eyes lit up. "R-really?"

"No," he thudded.

Freed's hopes sank. "Oh."

Laxus chuckled at all of those amusing facial expressions. "Well, maybe. Never worn one. Could be hot."

Freed tucked his head down. "Y-yeah, it would be."

His head tilted to the side. "You think so?"

"Y-yeah," he stuttered. "I think it'd be hot … you wearing my collar … and me wearing yours … something … for both of us, to show we own each other."

"Idiot," he sighed. Laxus lifted Freed's hand and kissed right over the promise ring. "That's what this is for."

"Yeah, but—"

"Freed, this ring means a lot more than a collar does. I _don't_ take this ring off," he emphasized. "We _would_ be taking that collar off."

Freed blinked in surprise. "Y-you don't take it off?"

"No. You haven't noticed? Even when showering, I keep it on."

Freed let out a small sound of astonishment. "I thought I was the only one."

"Pay attention more," he snapped, but immediately his voice went gentle. "And don't worry about her," he said, thumbing back to Flare. "She's like that with everyone. If you don't watch yourself, she'll do that to you. Then I'll have to mark you again … in front of everyone."

His voice shivered, "Y-y-yeah."

God, he loved that trembling moan. Laxus' hands slid over Freed's body. "You like this? Showing you off? Doing stuff to you … in front of all these people?"

He gulped hard. "Yeah. I … I do."

"Good," he smirked. "We'll see about doing this more, but only under controlled circumstances like this."

"Yeah." He liked the idea, but he had to be cautious. "I mean, you never know, someone like my father could walk in here."

Laxus froze, and he knew his face just gave him away.

Freed saw that slightly panicked expression. He should have known! "My father's been in here, hasn't he?"

Laxus pouted and looked away, muttering, "It's a good possibility."

"Dammit," he sighed. However, Freed knew he should not be all that surprised. "Knowing him, he's probably been in every club like this in three states." Seriously, that father of his! And if Laxus knew about this, it meant he had met up with Llewellyn here at some time. Freed hated to think how that encounter must have gone. He needed to shove it out of his head. "Well, he's not here now."

He was glad Freed was not asking for details. Best to move past that before it ruined their incredible evening. "If he was, I'd claim you even more, right in front of him, let him see it."

Freed frowned at him. "Sheesh, this is my _father_ we're talking about!"

"I know!" he snapped a little too harshly.

Freed saw the pinch to his brow. "I guess for you…" His words stopped sharply, and he whispered, "Nothing."

"Yeah, for me," Laxus glowered. "For me, _he_ was the problem. You think _she's_ a problem?" he asked, thumbing over to Flare again. "She's nothing. Nothing like what I had to go through."

Freed frowned that Laxus even had to deal with that sort of drama. He tried to cheer up. "Well, we got through that."

"Hell yeah, we did," he smiled. "And I'm glad. I'm glad we're where we are."

"Me, too," he beamed.

Laxus picked up Freed's hand, ran his thumb over the promise ring and gazed down at him with a serious expression. "Freed?"

He hummed, wondering why Laxus looked so determined.

Suddenly, boldly and bombastically, Laxus bellowed, "I love you!"

People around them went quiet and looked over. Someone applauded. A few people cooed at the love declaration. Freed felt his cheeks burning brightly. Laxus might have told him that many times now, but never in front of so many people, and never shouted like that.

"Well, you said that rather loudly," he muttered, glancing around at all the stares.

"Yeah. I want them all to know, it goes both ways between us."

The noise was back, and Freed felt less on the spot. His devious side rose again like a devil, and his eye gleamed. "Well, maybe I should tell them about the time I handcuffed you to the bed."

Those blue eyes bored down into him, and Laxus said slowly, "Fuck … you."

Freed burst into laughs, and Laxus grabbed him into a hug. Devious little bitch! He seriously did love this man and how unpredictable he was.

"You little ass," he laughed. Then Laxus reached down and grabbed Freed's butt. He yelped at the shocking pain. "Wonderful ass!" Laxus purred, massaging the soft globes. "And I'm gonna claim it again tonight."

As nice as that sounded, Freed cringed. "Um … tomorrow. I still hurt."

He let go of Freed's butt. "Okay, then. Tomorrow." He leaned into Freed's ear. "Maybe I'll spoil you even more and let you claim me again."

"R-really?" he cried out.

"Why not?" he said in amusement. "I liked it, and you definitely liked it." He felt something poking him below. "Or are you aroused already?"

"I … I dunno. Maybe."

"Of course you are!" Laxus leaned into his ear. "Do you wanna claim me tonight?"

Freed shuddered out a moan. "Maybe," he breathed, but then he looked up at Laxus. God, he wanted him again! So he answered clearer, "Y-yeah." He wanted him. Again! He needed it. What did that man say about aftercare? Figure out what your body needs to regain balance? Freed strongly felt he needed this!

Laxus smoothed down the silky hair again. "But then tomorrow, I get to have you any way I want. I'll spoil you all day, but tomorrow night, your ass is mine."

"Fair enough."

"Heh!" He held his elbow out like a gentleman. "Let's get out of here."

Freed agreed, and he wrapped his arm through the offered elbow. Laxus escorted Freed out of the club to the waiting taxi.

* * *

**BONUS SCENE**

"Laxus Yuri Dreyar!"

Oh shit! Freed had never used his full name before. Laxus was not even sure if his own mother had ever yelled at him by his full name.

Freed stormed into the bedroom where Laxus was playing a game on his phone. He had just showered, his hair still wet, a robe wrapped around him, and a scowl on his face. He held forth his phone in accusation.

"You took pictures of me," he yelled.

"Yeah," Laxus replied honestly. "Did you like looking through them? They're some good shots."

Freed's ears turned red in humiliation. "They're … while we were … you were tak- … dammit!" he huffed, trying to calm himself. "We were making love, and you were busy taking pictures with _my_ cellphone_._"

"Mine was inside my coat. I couldn't reach it."

"You're supposed to focus on _me_, not the phone," he shrieked.

Laxus laughed and looked back to his cellphone game. "I was totally focused on you. You can see that from those pictures. I especially like the one where you can see _MINE _on your ass with my cock smashed between the I and the N. I should put that as my profile picture on Facebook."

"Hell no!" Freed yelled. "You … you're … a jerk! You're a big, stupid jerk!" Then he stomped back off to the bathroom with his bathrobe fluttering behind him.

Laxus chuckled to himself. "I guess it's a good thing I didn't tell him that photo's already my desktop picture for my phone." He closed the game and saw on the cellphone's screen, Freed's pinkened buttcheeks with that imprinted word. Best fucking wallpaper ever!

"Oh my God, you emailed them to yourself!"

Laxus chuckled, plugged his phone into the charger for the night, and curled down in bed.

**Next Chapter: "Drop"**

* * *

_A/N: Audio drama - chirb =dot= it/Itva2s_

_Thanks to Sass-Queen-Justine for a picture of Freed being my very own angel of music, playing a blue trombone (which is what I play) and giving my band a demonstration on how to be "sassy" while wearing his masked angel outfit. I can't stop laughing at this!  
sass-queen-justine =dot= tumblr =dot= com/post/132394961142/_


	40. Drop

_For more information - www. bdsmwiki .info/Drop_

_Audio drama: chirb =dot= it/ndPJ1d_

* * *

Chapter 40

**Drop**

The Monday after their time at the club, Freed had been sore to sit for too long at the office. He kept getting up, walking to the water cooler, roaming around holding a file and trying to look busy, rather than sitting and fidgeting in his chair. He figured it was just the ache in his ass and the adrenaline that came after a scene. He went home that day, ate a little more than usual, and collapsed into bed early. Laxus was still caring for him, knowing they went far, so he tucked Freed in and watched a bit of TV on his own before bed.

But Tuesday, it was all different.

Freed was still sore, although nowhere near as bad. He was hungry and jittery, though. Despite a large dinner the night before and a hearty breakfast, Freed kept leaving to buy snacks to eat at his desk. He anxiously tapped his pencil on his desk until a coworker snapped at him. He thought maybe he made his coffee too strong, except he also felt paranoia. He jumped at noises. When the printer made a loud beep, Freed cried out in surprise.

"Are you okay?" asked Macao, the senior manager, as he walked by carrying a stack of papers.

Freed's words rushed out. "Too much coffee, sir. I'm terribly sorry." Inside, his mind was in a panicked state of chaos. _'Oh my God, am I going to get fired, will he tell my father, will I be humiliated in front of the whole company, will he really fire me, banish me, disown me…?'_

"Cut back on the caffeine, kid," Macao chuckled, and he walked on.

"Y-yeah," Freed answered, laughing nervously. He looked down. His hands were trembling from the burst of fear. "What the hell is happening?" he whispered to himself.

Just before lunch, Freed felt himself dropping hard and fast. The hyper panic mode of that morning turned into a mindless daze. He kept staring at his screen and could not figure out what the words meant. He clicked around a spreadsheet but kept forgetting how to enter the data.

Only then did Freed realize what was happening: sub-drop. After intense BDSM, the chemical chaos of endorphins and adrenaline could mess with the emotions and physical body. It explained his hunger, his restlessness, paranoia, and now this sudden confusion and depression sinking in his stomach. Freed fled to the restroom, hid in a stall, and pulled out his phone. The time it took for Laxus to answer seemed like an eternity.

Finally, there was a click. "Hey, Freed," came the familiar voice.

"Laxus," he whispered desperately. "I … need you."

The deep voice went instantly stern. "What's going on and where are you?"

"At work. I … I'm not doing well."

"Are you sick?"

"It's…" How could he say it in public? "I'm dropping, Laxus. Dropping hard."

"Shit," he hissed. "How bad is it?"

"I … don't know. It's … dammit, it's like I'm just sinking. It's never been this bad."

"Ya almost on lunch break?"

"In twenty minutes."

"I can be there in twenty-five. There's a park near your work, right? Meet me there. I'll bring food. Now, listen to me. I love you," he said in such a gentle tone, Freed felt the tension in his shoulders loosen. "I love you very much. I'm coming for you, and I want to hold you. We'll hold each other. I'll be there as soon as I can. I'll help you to feel better, because I love to see you smile, Freed. I want to help you smile and feel happy again."

Freed sighed. Just that little bit soothed him.

"Better?"

"Much," he nodded.

"I'm heading out right now. See you soon, babe." Then the phone call ended.

Freed smiled to himself. Babe? Laxus had never called him that before, and it was rather sweet. He could last a little longer. Knowing Laxus was coming, knowing he still cared, gave Freed the boost he needed to make it until noon.

He had an hour off for lunch, so Freed left with the other office workers. Most of them were going to one of the restaurants nearby. Freed turned down a few invitations, waved politely in thanks, and walked the other way toward the park. It was a small place, a bit of grass, shade trees, a stone fountain, benches for people to eat their lunches, and a few food carts hanging around hoping people would buy hot dogs and coffee. Freed found an empty bench and sat there, waiting. Laxus said it would take twenty-five minutes, yet more time passed.

Freed began to feel down again. Maybe Laxus did not want to bother. He was a busy man, and Freed was just being needy again. Laxus must surely get annoyed with him.

Or maybe he was with someone.

Maybe he was with Flare.

Just as his thoughts turned dark, a city bus pulled up and three people stepped off, including the towering blond holding a paper lunch bag. He scanned the urban park, saw Freed sitting there, and rushed over. Freed stood, ready to greet him professionally in this sort of setting, but Laxus threw his arms around Freed instead. They were hugging, out here in public, right in the shadow of his father's corporate building.

"Thank you for calling me," Laxus whispered. "Always call me. Always let me know, got it?"

Freed forgot everything for a moment and replied quietly, "Yes, master."

Laxus pulled back and looked him over. "Headache? Fatigue? Nausea?"

"Jittery since yesterday. Now … I can't focus. I can't even remember important details about our project. I was so hungry earlier, but now I'm queasy. My head is foggy, and just in the past hour I'm … sinking. Depression, I guess. I don't know if I've ever had depression like this."

They sat back down on the bench, and Laxus pulled out a large sports bottle. "Drink it up. It should help."

The drink was cool and sweet, a berry flavor, although Freed did not recognize it right away. Laxus then handed him a chocolate bar and quietly ordered him to eat it. Freed did not necessarily like something so sweet for lunch, but he obeyed. Laxus was a dominant and must have learned how to deal with sub-drop somewhere along the way. Between the drink and the chocolate, and simply knowing Laxus was there with him, Freed began to feel better. However, when Laxus held his hand, Freed pulled back in a panic.

"We're in public," he whispered.

"Freed, you're my boyfriend. Should I really not hold your hand?"

He paused, realizing he was just being nervous and paranoid. It was all part of sub-drop.

"Are you parked nearby?"

Freed nodded, so they left the park to a garage used by the officer workers. It smelled of oil and car fumes, the concrete walls echoed, and some cars were pulling out on their way to lunch. Still, Laxus followed Freed to his Corvette, and they sat in there.

"Can I hold your hand here?" asked Laxus.

Freed felt safer here, and he squeezed the massive hand. "I'm sorry. I normally wouldn't care if we're in public or not—"

"Freed," Laxus cut in. He reached up with his free hand and caressed the pale cheeks. "If ever you're not comfortable, tell me. You've got a lot on your shoulders. I don't want to burden you even more."

Freed felt burning in his eyes. Laxus was here! Even outside of the club, outside of their home, he was here. He was always right there for him.

Freed collapsed across the floor-mounted shifter and into the passenger seat, lying on Laxus' lap and curling into him as best as he could with the gear shaft sticking in his rib.

"Pet me," he sighed.

Laxus stroked through his hair, smiling down sadly. "I sent you really far this past weekend."

"But you took care of me," Freed growled in frustration. "I shouldn't be—"

"Fuck what you think should and shouldn't happen! You dropping this long afterward just goes to show how good it was, right?"

Freed hummed, smiling as memories of the club flashed through his mind. He could hardly believe he had been naked in front of everyone. Such a naughty public thing! Something like that would normally be impossible for the son of an influential family.

"You were very brave and very strong. You held up through the whole thing, and you were sexy the whole time. So incredibly sexy! I couldn't even wait to have you."

He hummed again and nuzzled against Laxus' crotch.

"Hey now!" Laxus laughed, easing Freed's head back. "No playing down there unless you're willing to finish." Turquoise eyes looked up to him filled with lust, and Laxus knew he was lost. "Fuck, Freed. You look starved."

"I haven't had lunch," he smirked, and he leaned forward again, planting a kiss on Laxus' groin, then letting out a hot breath of air into the fabric. Laxus choked up, and Freed felt the soft lump inside twitch as it stiffened. "I think … I need it. I need to know you like what I can do for you." He stroked his face along the bulge, and Laxus had to shift his hips as his clothes restricted him. "You do so much for me, take me to such heights." He planted another kiss and looked up from the lap. "I need to know you enjoy it."

"Fuck yes, I do," Laxus whispered, feeling his heart race. "I didn't bring nothin'. It'll be messy."

Freed pulled Laxus' zipper down, listening to the sound of the metal teeth separating. "Don't worry. I plan on devouring it all."

He eased Laxus' cock out and kissed it. Laxus groaned as Freed stroked the enlarging cock while licking around the head.

"Tell me," Freed whispered, wrapping his lips around the head and sucking just the tip. "Tell me I'm the only one."

His cheeks flushed with excitement. "Only you. You're the only person in the world who makes me hard."

"Not anyone at the club?"

The club? Was Freed still worried about that? "I've never gotten aroused there before this weekend."

Freed lapped all the way around. "Not Flare?"

"Fuck no! That bitch has never been arousing to me. I don't think she's sexy at all. None of them are. Only one person has ever made me hard like this. Only you."

"Please keep telling me," he ordered in a whisper. Then Freed plunged down, instantly taking it deep.

"Shit!" Laxus hissed, clutching a handful of green hair. "Only you. Such a talented cocksucker. You're the only one allowed to taste me. No one … _nngh_ … no one else. Goddammit, that's good!"

Freed hummed as he bobbed up and down.

"I don't trust those assholes, but I trust you. I trust you because you're good. So damn fucking good. You … oh God, Freed … you're the only … _fuck!_" His hips began to cant upward. "Holy shit, I love the feel of your mouth. Damn, so good."

Freed pulled back up. "More. Tell me." Then back down he went.

Laxus kept clenching and releasing Freed's hair. "My cocksucker. My only slave. So good. You're so talented, I don't need anyone else."

Freed made a deep, possessive growling sound.

"Yeah, don't need anyone. I don't even watch porn online anymore. I can't get aroused by it, but when I watch that video of you fucking me for the first time, I can't even make it through the first ten minutes. You're all I need, and fuck do I need you. I need your mouth, your hands, your soul. I need your love, Freed. I need to make you fall in love with me more and more, because I'm a greedy bastard and I need you. … need you so much. Only you, though. Onl- … _fuck!_ Only … y-you. Freed!" he bellowed.

However, Freed pulled off and squeezed his cock slightly, forcing Laxus to hold out. "I'm the only one?" he asked with a voice wavering between possessiveness and desperation.

"Fuck, yes, now stop—"

"The _only_ one?" he emphasized. "No one else can suck you?"

"No one else ever has, and they never will."

"No one else makes you hard?"

"I've told you that all alone, now don't—"

Freed squeezed him a little harder and looked straight into Laxus' face. "I'm enough for you? Am I really enough? Even when I can't do things, can't go as far as you're used to, can't take you as far as you take me?"

Laxus saw the uncertainty in his eyes and felt a pang of empathy. "Listen to me closely, Freed Justine. You are not only enough for me, you are too fucking much." Both of his hands held Freed's face and stroked into the green hair. "What the hell do you mean, you don't take me far? Do you have any idea how satisfied I feel afterward? I'm exhausted for days. You give me so much, I feel like I'm going to drown. Rather than wondering if you're enough for me, I wonder if I'm capable enough of receiving everything you give to me. So much love, I don't even know how to take it all. So much pleasure, my cock is going to blow without you. You make me do stupid things like this, a blow job in your car in a company parking garage during your lunch break. And you're so good, so fucking amazing, I want to do this again. I want you to suck me like this. But not every day, because you suck me so good—so _damn_ good—I need to recover. You wear me out. You make me crave you more, and fall in love with you more, so deeply in love that it terrifies me. Enough for me?" He chuckled and kissed Freed, pulling him in closer. "If you gave me any more, I'd explode."

Freed felt the worries flying away, and with it the drop. Laxus' words lifted him again.

"Now, I beg of you, suck my cock before I blast cum all over your work clothes, because I seriously cannot hold back longer."

Freed gave him a quick peck, then dropped back down and bobbed his mouth onto Laxus.

"Fuck yes!" he hissed. "Fuck…"

A car pulled into the garage and parked across the way.

"Shit, Freed, do _not_ raise up," Laxus warned sharply. "Shit! Shit!"

Laxus heard the office worker getting out of his car and the beep of the car alarm activating. He heard footsteps going right past the Corvette, and Laxus strained to hold back, tensing his entire body. He had Freed's ponytail in a death-grip as his thighs shivered.

"Hurry up, you asshole. Fucking … can't … hold back."

Luckily, the man did not look at their car. He kept going, hurrying onward to work. As soon as the footsteps faded, Freed smirked and gave a tight suck on the cock.

"Fuck!" Laxus squawked. That one movement broke everything apart, and he came instantly despite trying to delay it a little longer to be safe. "God … dammit … Fre- … Freed! Shit!"

He felt Freed's tongue and throat working, swallowing him down. Everything rushed out, and Laxus felt himself sinking into the Corvette's leather seat. His hold on the long hair loosened, and his hands dropped in surrender.

"Oh my fucking God, that was intense." He felt Freed starting to pull back, and Laxus pressed his hand on the moving head. "Don't move. Don't pull off. Not joking. Don't … move."

Laxus had not wanted to complain about it, but he had also felt off for the past few days. Hurting the man he loved took its mental toll at times. Pushing Freed into that situation left him with doubts. He could barely sleep, worried if Freed might hate all of this and leave him one day. He hated to think it was dom-drop, but it fit the description.

Now, he just wanted to be with Freed, to know he was still loved despite doing all that. He wanted Freed to still want him, need him, and love him. For just a little longer, he wanted to know Freed wanted him this desperately, enough to risk something so crazy.

"Next time we do something as intense as last Saturday," Laxus said softly, stroking through Freed's hair, "we do it on an extended weekend. At least with a free Monday so we can have another day together, just us. So I can hold you one more day."

Freed finally pulled back and wiped his lips. "Or we plan ahead of time to meet up together for lunch."

Laxus barked out a weary laugh. "And do this? Hell yes!"

Freed smiled coyly as he sat back in the driver's seat. "You didn't mind?"

"Who the hell would _mind_ a lunchtime blow job?" he exclaimed. He tucked himself back away. "Um, do you need it, too? I can't say I'd be any good keeping hidden in a car this small, but I could jerk you off at least."

Freed shook his head. "I'm tired enough as it is. I'd probably fall asleep if you did that."

Laxus smoothed back some stray hairs that had slipped out of Freed's ponytail. "Do you feel better?"

He leaned over and rested his head on Laxus' shoulder. "Starting to. I'll probably be a little off all day."

"Call your dad. Tell him you ate something and you're feeling sick."

Freed raised up and gawked at him. "Laxus, I can't just skip work—"

"I'm giving you an order, Freed."

"And I'm telling you, no!" he shouted back. "You can order me around at home, but not here. I can't skip work. We have a project that's about to fall behind schedule. I can't slack off even a little."

"I'm seriously worried for you," Laxus snapped. "I've never had to deal with sub-drop before. Hell, if I hadn't been half-listening to the presentation on it at the exhibition, I wouldn't have known the first thing to do. I had to call Flare on the way here to see if she had any extra advice." His brow wrinkled with worries. "I feel like I let you down."

"No!" Freed cried out. "It's like you said: the fact that it happened despite all the aftercare just shows I was able to go really deep. It … was that good," he said bashfully. "You didn't let me down. You spent all weekend pampering me."

Laxus still looked perturbed, not liking that he had caused Freed to have this sort of reaction. "Has it ever happened before?"

Freed froze and wavered at answering, mouth opened and lower lip quivering.

"It has!" Laxus realized. "You never told me. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I couldn't."

"You can always—"

"No, I _couldn't_." Freed pulled back and slumped against the driver's door with his arms folded. "It was after our first night. I dropped hard the next day. I couldn't focus for three days. I didn't even know what was going on, just thought it was stress from classes. I _couldn't_ call you because I didn't have your number, didn't even know your full name, and I wasn't about to call the South Pole Club to get in touch with you."

Laxus paused, thinking back to that first night. "I totally let you down. I just took off that morning, didn't even say bye."

Freed shook his head, not wanting to get into this. "You didn't know, and I didn't even know what it was until later."

"Later?" he snapped. "It happened again?"

Freed bit his lip and looked aside. "One other time. It wasn't even that bad, but I missed a day of classes. I looked up my symptoms, thought I had the flu, but I happened to see a website that mentioned sub-drop. I … didn't want to worry you. I called you up, though. I asked if we could go on a date. I figured that was all I really needed, to have a nice day with you, get my emotions stabilized."

"It helped?" he asked.

"Y-yeah, it did."

"Then we'll do that," Laxus insisted instantly.

Freed smiled bashfully. He was so quick at jumping into things. "Really, I'll be fine."

"Bullshit. We'll go on a date, maybe not today, but this weekend. Looking forward to our date will help, too."

"But I—"

"Shut up and let me spoil you. I need it as well, you know."

Freed's eyes widened. He needed it? He suddenly realized what Laxus must mean. Last weekend was intense for him as well. He had wondered why Laxus was not coming to bed until really late. He thought it was just his nocturnal habits cropping up again, except he kept waking up early. He was hardly eating, and he was quiet yesterday during dinner. As Freed thought back on it, Laxus might have been displaying signs of dom-drop.

Freed leaned over into his boyfriend and yanked the massive arm around him, cuddling in close. "You should tell me as well if you're not doing okay."

Laxus rolled his eyes and pouted. "I'm fine."

"You're horrible at lying."

Laxus scoffed, but he pulled Freed in a little closer and kissed the top of his head. "Let's just say, I'm glad you called. I was getting down staying at home alone."

"You don't go out while I work?" Freed asked in surprise.

"Where would I go? I don't know anyone, and I don't have anywhere to hang out."

"The Fairy Tail Pub. You know the people there."

Laxus huffed out disdainfully. "I'm not exactly welcome."

"I bet they're happy to see you. We should go there again, just us. Introduce me around. We could make it our own hangout. I could meet you there after work. At the very least, if you're feeling down, you should get out of the condo. I can't imagine being locked up there all day."

"S'not so bad," he shrugged. "It's clean, air conditioned, and you have a hell of a DVD collection. I'll think about it, though. This weekend, we'll go somewhere nice. Anything you wanna do?"

Freed laughed softly. "Well, _Phantom of the Opera_ is coming to Magnolia, but I'm sure this weekend is sold out."

"_Phantom_? I saw the movie, not bad. You like that stuff?"

"I adore the music of Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber."

"Cool. I'll see if I can pull some strings. Now, let's get something to eat. You need food. That _is_ an order, too," he smiled, lifting Freed's hand and kissing the promise ring. "Eat! Feel better."

Freed blushed and started up the car. "Try not to puke. By the way, how did you manage to take the bus here?"

"Very, very sickly," Laxus grumbled. "I don't want to talk about it."

Freed smiled, put on some flute music, and left the parking garage to go to lunch.

* * *

The Corvette pulled up to the condo and stopped at the curb.

"You didn't have to drive me all the way home," Laxus insisted as he got out of the car.

"I have time. That way you don't have to take the bus back."

Laxus walked around to the driver's side and leaned in through the open window, giving Freed a kiss. "Text me whenever you can. Keep me updated."

"I'm feeling much better," Freed assured him.

"Still, let me know." He leaned in and kissed him again. "See ya after work."

"You take care as well," Freed said in worry.

"Oh trust me!" Laxus tapped Freed's lips. "I'm feeling _much_ better now."

Freed tucked his head down with a blush.

"I'll repay you tonight … in the shower."

"Laxus!" he cried out, realizing they were in public, on the street right outside his home.

He chuckled and patted the green head. "See ya."

"Yeah, later," he smiled, and Freed drove the car quickly down the road so he would not be late returning from his lunch.

Laxus went into the condo and let himself inside. Coming home to such a perfect, high-class place was still strange. He wondered if he would ever get used to this lifestyle. He shrugged off his coat and removed his shoes. Then he walked in and flopped on the couch. He pulled out his cellphone and dialed a number he swore he would never use.

"Llywellyn Justine here."

Laxus rolled his eyes. "My God, you even answer your _personal_ phone like a fucking businessman."

There was a squawking cry on the other line. "You! How … how did you get this number?"

"Who the fuck do you think I'm dating?" Laxus snapped. "Of course I have the numbers to Freed's family. Shut up and listen. Your family supports the opera house, right?"

"Um, yes? We supply the wines and have been donating to the arts since my grandfather—"

"Fine! Do you guys get seasonal tickets and shit?"

"Seasonal…? Y-yes, actually. We usually donate them back to the house."

"Do you have tickets for this weekend?"

"_Phantom of the Opera_?" Llewellyn said in instant realization. "Honestly, I usually donate the tickets back on Thursdays if we're not planning on using them. Lucky for you, today is Tuesday."

"I want two tickets," Laxus insisted.

"Yours! You need only to ask. You know I would give anything for my son."

"About that," Laxus said sternly. "Freed called me around lunch. He's not feeling well, but he's too stubborn to back down. He doesn't want to disappoint you. If you can do anything at all to lighten his duties, consider it a personal favor to me."

"Is he sick?" Llewellyn cried out, and Laxus heard all the paternal instincts swelling up in this man.

"He's working hard," Laxus smirked. "Lots of overtime." He reached down and stroked himself, thinking about that incredible blow job in the car. Fuck, that was amazing! "Don't dishonor him, though. He wants to please people," he said, stroking himself again. "You most of all, so don't humiliate him." Humiliating Freed was _his_ job. "Just try to make sure he's not overburdened this week."

"I'll do what I can, of course. He's definitely a hard worker."

"Very hard," Laxus agreed, feeling his growing erection through his pants. He wondered how hard Freed must have gotten while sucking him. Yet he had not wanted a quick yank before lunch. Had he been denying himself? Mmm, that sounded delicious! The more Freed denied himself, the better he reacted later on.

"That boy gives everything he's got."

"Oh, he gives everything, all right. A perfectionist," Laxus agreed with a dreamy smile. He looked down at the prominent tent in his jeans. "I've gotta go. Don't tell Freed I called you."

"Of course not!" There was a playful giggle on the phone, and Llewellyn whispered, "It's our secret."

Laxus' eyes narrowed and his hand stopped stroking. "Fuck you," he said coldly. He _knew_ calling Llewellyn could stir up problems, and so he spoke in his sternest dominant voice to show him he was _not _going to put up with this shit again.

On the other line, the powerful CEO stuttered like a nervous schoolboy. "Um … r-right … sorry, didn't mean to overstep."

Laxus rolled his eyes and wondered if he would ever be able to lower his guard around this bastard.

"Your tickets will be for the evening show this Saturday. They'll be at will-call under _your_ name."

He was a bastard, but at least he was an obedient bastard. "Good man," he said stiffly, with a tone like they had agreed upon a business arrangement. No need to compliment him and make this masochist happy. "Keep an eye on Freed for me."

"Of course, Laxus," he said with familiarity, and Laxus could practically hear the blushing smile in his voice. "You can call anytime."

Laxus did not even say goodbye, just hung up on him with a pinch to his brow. He glanced down again, but the stiffness in his pants was gone. Instead, he felt an ache of libidinal disappointment.

"Dammit, I lost my hard-on because of that bastard."

He went to his computer and pulled up the video of Freed sucking him. He watched as the camera jolted and came back into focus, showing Freed's mouth working, his lips stretched, taking Laxus' cock in deep.

"Mmm, yeah," Laxus moaned. He opened the fly of his jeans and reached in to stroke himself to the video. "Oh fuck, yes."

He had not lied when he told Freed he no longer browsed online for porn. The videos they made were what he really wanted, because then he could fantasize about just the man he loved and not feel disgust as he watched some stranger fake-moaning.

He did not hurry, and he knew he probably would not come. He just wanted to keep himself hard. He could spend the rest of the afternoon edging, so that when Freed came home he would be more than ready. So he stroked slowly, watching Freed's slutty face and remembering the blow job in the car.

"Freed, you've spoiled me." Those turquoise eyes looked up at the camera, and Laxus felt his cock drip a little. "Damn, but you spoil me _good_."

**Next Chapter: "Angel of Music"**


	41. Angel of Music

_A/N: I blame Sass-queen-justine for these drawings of "Phantom" Freed:_

_sass-queen-justine =dot= tumblr =dot= com/post/132319815987/_  
_sass-queen-justine =dot= tumblr =dot= com/post/130307352372/_

_A quick note for anyone unfamiliar with "Phantom of the Opera." The Phantom is a musical genius with a deformed face who wears a mask and calls himself the Angel of Music to deceive the heroine, Christine. The love interest is Raoul, Vicomte de Chagny, a nobleman and childhood friend of the chorus-girl-turned-opera-star, Christine Daaé. Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical includes a love duet between Raoul and Christine, "All I Ask of You." In the story, the Phantom has many commands for the managers of "his" opera house, including that Box 5 be left empty. Some of the lines in this chapter come from the songs in the musical. I highly recommend the book, the musical, or the film of the musical with Gerard Butler as the Phantom._

_Audio: chirb. it/qPnaG6 (You've got to hear Laxus sing! I don't do justice to what I imagine in my head.)  
_

* * *

Chapter 41

**Angel of Music**

When Freed said he _adored_ the music of Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber, he should have said "fanboy-for-life with major obsession issues including a closet full of cosplay outfits, from _Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat_ to _School of Rock_, with outfits for _Evita_, _Sunset Boulevard_, _Jesus Christ Superstar_, and too-many-to-be-sane outfits for _Cats_." So when he showed up at the Magnolia Opera House, not in his regular nice clothes, but in a cape and white mask, Laxus literally face-palmed.

"Really, Freed? Really?" he muttered. "This is why it took you so long? _This_ is why you kicked me out and said you'd meet me here?"

Freed gave an exuberant bow, swirling his cape. "I aim only to inspire."

"Freed, quit it," Laxus grumbled. He sighed and shook his head. "Shit, I should have known you were up to something weird."

He grinned and grabbed around Laxus' arm. "It's _Phantom_. This is seriously my favorite musical of all-time. The other times I've gone have been with my family. There was no way I could dress up." He bounced on his toes. "Now, I can finally live out a dream of mine."

"To dress like a murderer who seduces young actresses?"

He scoffed and held his chin high. "You wouldn't understand."

"Obviously not. I swear, if you jump up and dance in the aisles during _Masquerade_, I'll throw you over my knee and spank you in front of everyone."

Freed laughed and entered the opera house in high spirits. Laxus immediately went to the will-call booth and gave his name for the tickets in wait. He accepted them and passed one over to Freed. He looked down, curious what sort of seats Laxus managed to get to opening night and on such short notice. As he saw the seating number, Freed's boyish grin cracked. He stopped dead in the middle of the foyer, staring down at the ticket. Then he glanced up sadly at Laxus, who was busy glancing around, trying to find where they sold the wine.

"Laxus?"

He hummed and looked down. "Ya okay?"

Freed tucked the ticket into his pocket. "Wine is to the left. Um … I'm going to look at the merchandise. Meet me here."

"Sure. Don't go too crazy buying stuff, fanboy," he teased, nipping Freed on the chin.

Freed tried to laugh, but he turned away looking disappointed.

After waiting far too long in a line for wine, Laxus returned to the waiting spot to see Freed minus the mask and cape, although the rest of the outfit was still regal. He had a large gift bag stuffed with the rest of his costume.

"What's up? Couldn't see through the mask?" Laxus saw right away, Freed looked upset. Instincts to protect him kicked in. "Did some asshole tease you about dressing up?" he growled. Freed shook his head but said nothing. Laxus then wondered if this was about his exasperation earlier. "Really, if you wanna wear the mask—"

"_Never_ call my father again!" he snapped.

Laxus flinched and pulled back. "What?"

Freed held up his ticket. "I've sat in these seats so many times, I can tell you exactly where Bickslow stuck his bubblegum when we were kids. My family always gets these seats. The only way you could have gotten them is through my father." He shook his head. "Dammit, I was wondering how you managed tickets to opening night. You said you had _connections_. You used my father!"

"I asked if he happened to have tickets."

In disgust, yet trying not to raise his voice, Freed growled, "How often do you meet with my father?"

"I didn't _meet_ him. I called him on the phone."

"You chat with my father over the phone? Do you text each other, too?" he snapped in outrage.

"No!" Laxus barked, but he brought his voice back down, realizing they were in a busy foyer. "That was the first time I have ever called him. I knew he had a connection to the opera house."

"My _family_ has a connection," he emphasized. "This!" He held up the ticket again. "It's not like you bought it. It's my money, my _family's_ money."

"Because I don't have money like that, Freed," he whispered, angry that he had to admit to his own personal destitution. "I'm sorry, but I don't. You want a date with me, on my paycheck? You'll be going to car shows and eating Jack-in-the-Box. You wanted to see _Phantom_; I said I'd get tickets. I didn't say where I'd get them from. Would it have been better if I got them through one of my old clients?"

Freed fist clenched on the gift bag, and in a scathing whisper he spat out, "That's … precisely … what … you … did!"

Laxus took a step back at the fury in those turquoise eyes. Freed was right. He had seen it as just calling up Freed's father, but he had also gotten that favor from an old client. He hoped Freed did not ask the damning question: had Llewellyn flirted on the phone?

"I apologize," he said humbly, casting his eyes down. "I won't call him again unless it's specifically about you."

Freed still felt deep disappointment. He thought Laxus truly went out of his way to get these tickets. The romantic side of him imagined Laxus calling the opera house for any cancellations, frantic to get two seats together for the show. Instead, he simply called and got a favor from—of all people—Freed's own father.

"Never call him."

"From now on, only in an emergency."

Freed nodded, and his fist loosened up. "Sorry," he sighed, feeling weary now.

Laxus wanted to take him into his arms, caress him, and whisper apologies to show how sorry he was for upsetting Freed. Instead, a woman with a child in tow bumped into his elbow and apologized as she walked on. He glanced around at the milling crowd and pouted.

"Can we go anywhere? Some … I dunno … secret VIP room for rich shits?"

Freed laughed, and shook his head. "No, but there might be a closet."

"Nah, I hate being in the closet," Laxus grumbled with a soft chuckle at the joke, "but I can't do what I want here."

Freed raised an eyebrow and whispered in scandal, "No blow jobs."

"No," he laughed, realizing that was of course Freed's first impression. "Just apologize properly."

Freed realized they really did need a moment together, and no matter the gender, that sort of display would not be appropriate in this location. "The wine cellar. I have access for inspections."

He led the way, and Laxus followed. The cellar was locked, but Freed pulled a key card out and swiped it. They went down a flight of stairs into a chilled, darkened area.

"Going under the opera house. You really are the Phantom of the Opera."

Freed glanced back with a sly smirk. "Does that make you Christine?"

Laxus' eyes narrowed. "You're getting your ass beaten later for that."

Freed hummed sensually with a gleam in his eyes. They came to a cold room with wine barrels and racks of bottles. Freed pulled Laxus a little to the side, between the racks.

"We're out of sight here."

Laxus suddenly grabbed Freed into a crushing hug, throwing him off balance for a moment. He wrapped Freed up in a strong, protective embrace, nuzzling into the scent of his hair.

"I am really, _really_ sorry if I overstepped my bounds. I shouldn't have used your family like that."

Freed leaned against the large chest with a small, relieved smile. "I don't mind that you used my family's tickets. It's that you went behind my back and asked a favor of my father. If it had been _anyone_ else in the family … but not him!" He clenched Laxus' suit coat as he felt a stinging in his eyes from the threat of tears. "Look, sometimes it's just … hard. Awkward. I can't even look at my father anymore without realizing … you and him—"

"Freed!" Laxus gasped, hurt by this deep pain in the man he loved.

"You even said, he was a problem. You had to punch him just to get him away from you. He's … a man who doesn't give up easily," Freed said delicately, cringing at having to think badly of his own father. "I know that more than anyone. And … and I'm afraid … he's not going to give up on you. Asking favors of him … he'll want a favor in return. I don't want you in his debt. At all! Ever!" he shouted, looking angry now. His voice dropped back to a breathy whisper tense with the tears he fought back. "Don't call my father again. Don't _ever_ ask him for a favor. If you keep his hopes up … he's a businessman to the core. He won't let go of a favorable opportunity if there still seems to be an interest in an offer."

Laxus grabbed Freed's shoulders, yanked him back enough to look into his eyes, and bellowed in disgust, "I'm not _at all_ interested!" His voice echoed between wine barrels and cases of bottles. Softer, gently, he swore, "I never have been. Ever. Only one man. Only you."

The tears finally slipped over the edges of his eyes. "I know," Freed said with a tremble. "But … more than one man has been interested in _you_. I get jealous at times when I stop and think about it. I don't like being jealous of my own father. It's … disgusting," he admitted sadly.

Laxus sighed and rubbed Freed's arms, hoping to support him. "How do you think I feel?"

Freed looked up in confusion.

"Freed, you're sexy as fuck. People around you notice."

He laughed bashfully. "No, I'm n-…"

"They do," he insisted. "You've gotta be blind if you don't see all the bitches checking you out."

Freed's nose cringed. "Well, maybe, but I'm not interested in women."

"No, but they're interested in you."

Freed realized what he was saying. It was the same thing. Maybe Laxus was not interested, but Llewellyn was; maybe Freed was not interested, but plenty of women were.

"Well then," he decided, wrapping his arms around Laxus' waist, "we have to protect one another from our _rabid horde_ of admirers."

Laxus snorted out a laugh, and grabbed Freed into a hug. "You protect my front, and I'll watch your back." He suddenly grabbed Freed's ass, making him yelp. "I'll watch it good!"

"Laxus!"

He pulled back with a smirk. "But if we don't get to our seats, we'll miss the intro. Lead the way, Phantom."

Freed chuckled, stepped forward, and crooked his finger. "Follow me, Christine."

"Fuck you. I more see myself as Raoul."

Freed swirled around and cupped Laxus' chin, singing up to him from the musical, "Love meeeeee! That's all I ask of you."

Laxus' cheeks flushed as he stared in surprise. There was nothing he could say, and besides, now Freed was laughing at his awestruck expression. The green hair flipped as he swirled away and began to walk off. Laxus trotted after his bitch … no … his _angel of music_.

They made their way back to the foyer and up to the box seats. Two burly men in black, obviously private guards, stood outside of the entrance. Even Laxus realized that these men looked tough.

"Ah, so he's here," Freed said to himself.

Laxus was about to ask who, but Freed went right past the guards, barely looking at them. There was a small lounge where the VIPs in the box could enjoy themselves before the show and during intermission without being forced to mingle with the crowd. Laxus knew he should have expected Mister Justine, fucking rich CEO, would not have casual seats, or even front row seats, but a whole private box. Two people were already sitting in the lounge sipping glasses of wine.

"Ah, so we're honored to have the young Justine tonight," said a man with dark hair, narrow eyes, and a smile that was both regal and devious.

"Senator Geer," Freed said, nodding with genteel familiarity. "I thought those were your security guards at the box entrance."

"Please, just Mard. I'm here to enjoy the show, nothing more."

"Mard Geer," Laxus whispered, eying the man he had only seen on television, either in campaign ads or on the news. "I voted for you."

"Did you?" the man laughed. "Well, thank you for your support."

"Senator Geer, this is my boyfriend, Laxus Dreyar."

"Oh!" he said in mild amusement, shaking hands with Laxus. Then his dark eyes slid over to Freed. "Your _father_ knows about this, right?"

With a stiff smile, Freed replied, "He's aware of my orientation, and of the man I've been dating since last summer."

"Just making sure," Mard said, trying to sound appeasing. "These things can cause scandals."

Laxus bristled, but Freed's official mask of geniality did not crack. With the same plastered smile, he retorted, "Maybe in the past the gay son of a CEO could cause the family problems, but this is a new age. Those prejudices are going away."

"A new age indeed!" Mard lifted his glass. "To tolerance, and to love. My dear Seilah, please get these gentlemen some wine. We should toast properly."

"Yes, sir," the woman said.

Freed raised an eyebrow at the busty woman in a gown that showed off her _assets_ too bounteously for his liking. "Your … secretary?"

Mard's sly smirk lifted. "My wife knows, in case that's your concern. We have … a liberal arrangement." He saw that Freed was still eying Seilah with a pinch to his brow. "Come now, young Justine! You can't expect people to accept _you_ for being gay if you can't accept _me_ for being polyamorous. That's hardly fair."

Freed gave an expiatory tip of his head. "My apologies, Senator."

"Just Mard tonight, please." The curvaceous woman in question handed the two young men crystal wineglasses. "To love and tolerance, and to a new age of acceptance."

"Cheers," Freed chuckled, clinking glasses.

Laxus only grunted as he also toasted with them. Immediately after a sip of the wine to be courteous, he slipped away while Freed and Mard continued to talk.

The lounge opened to the seats. They were to the side but right next to the stage, providing a commanding view of the action. Laxus now wondered what Freed must have thought of the tickets Mira gave them to see the opera. Why would she have given him tickets anyway, knowing his family had their own box?

Unless Freed utterly hated sitting here. Laxus heard the stiffness of his voice when talking to Mard Geer. Although he was smiling and amiable, Laxus could tell it was forced. Probably all the people with box seats were like that, with fake smiles and always aware of their social standing.

Mira must have given Freed those tickets so he could watch in peace, as just another person in the crowd, and not as _the young Justine_.

"I fucked up," he muttered to himself.

He never should have relied on Llewellyn Justine for tickets. Now Freed could not come in cosplay as he had wanted, so excited to wear that silly mask and cape, _living out a dream of his_ as he had put it. Now he had to be the son of a well-known CEO, entertaining one of the most politically powerful men in the country.

He heard soft footsteps behind him and leaped around. Seilah was coming forward, and in her hand was a tumbler of golden alcohol.

"The senator called for wine, but you look like a man who prefers something stronger." She held out the glass.

"What's in it?" Laxus asked as he gave the drink a sniff. Whiskey!

"Glenfiddich," she replied.

Laxus grunted, not too surprised VIP seating like this would also have high quality scotch. "Next time, no ice." Then he drank half of it in one go. It hit strong, just how he liked it.

"There will be another regular joining us tonight."

"Regular?"

"These seats are usually reserved for … special guests, such as the Justine family. However, they can be sold back to the house for … regular people."

"Commoners," Laxus spat.

She sighed awkwardly. "We don't use that term."

"Yeah, but that's the truth, right. You, me, we're not like those two. You're a secretary, right? And me, I'm a nobody, a total nobody. I wonder all the time what the hell Freed sees in me."

"I wonder the same about Mard, but I am thankful for his love."

Laxus grunted again, looking around as the audience filtered in for the start of the show. "Yeah. I'm one damn lucky guy. I still feel out of my league. I mean, he's chatting with a fucking _senator_ like it's nothing, all first-name-basis with a powerful bastard like him … no offense intended toward your boss."

"Your boyfriend does not really know the senator, if that's your fear. I believe they've met only a few times. He's simply being polite, as I'm sure he was raised."

"Yeah, raised to meet a fucking _king_ one day," Laxus grumbled. "The most I got taught in terms of manners was don't put my elbows on the table and chew with my mouth closed, and I still don't do that."

Seilah gave a polite chuckle that Laxus heard was forced as well. He had hoped to find a kindred spirit in her, but perhaps she had been in this sort of world longer than he imagined. She was simply being polite, no different than Freed was inside.

"More whiskey," he demanded, thrusting his glass at her. "No rocks."

She bowed her head and took his tumbler. Laxus pulled out his ticket and looked to see which seat was supposed to be his. Second row. Of course, the senator had the first row. The Justines were rich, but they were still just businessmen, not politicians. Seilah returned with the drink, and Laxus sat in his seat, staring at the stage set up for an auction.

Hardly a minute passed before Freed stepped out of the lounge and joined him. "I'm guessing this will be the last time you take a free favor from my father."

"I didn't know there'd be a fucking senator," Laxus whispered, glaring back to make sure their companions could not hear. "That chick said someone else would be here. Should I brush up on how to fucking curtsy?"

Freed chuckled and shook his head. "Richard Buchanan is an eye doctor."

"Oh, that's not so bad," Laxus decided.

"Well … he's one of the top ophthalmologists in the world. They call him Hoteye."

Laxus rolled his eyes. "Great. An internationally renown doctor, a senator, and a pretty rich boy. Fuck, I might as well be sitting in Box Five and meeting up with the fucking Phantom. Oh wait! I'm sitting next to his cosplaying number one fanboy!"

Freed laughed at his crankiness, and Laxus could hardly help but smile down at that happy face.

"Good seats, at least," he conceded, and took a sip from his tumbler. "Does your family provide the booze as well?"

"Just the wine."

"Damn. I was hoping I could request some Blue Label for the next time we come here. Then again, I guess I can only get real booze in that fancy-ass lounge." He reached over and placed his hand on top of Freed's. With a soft and worried voice, he asked, "Do you hate these seats?"

He jolted and looked up from scanning the audience. "No. These are one of the best seats in the house. I just didn't like _how_ you got them, asking a favor of my father."

"Yeah … I'm sorry about that, really."

Freed sighed and squeezed Laxus' hand. "Forgiven and forgotten."

"I just wouldn't mind coming back. At least here, I get booze … no offense to your family's wine. You get the tickets, though. Any show you want."

"_Any_ show?" he smirked.

"Sure. Any. German opera, ballet, modern dance, I don't care." His hand surreptitiously rubbed up Freed's arm, getting the younger man to blush. "Just being with you is enough."

A voice boomed out, "Young love is a glorious thing!"

They both jumped and turned around sharply to see a towering man with long, bushy, orange hair.

"Doctor Buchanan," Freed said, standing to shake his hand. "It's rare to see you."

"The opening weekend of my favorite musical? Of course I must watch it … with my own eyes!" he laughed, as if that was a great joke for an eye doctor.

Before Laxus had to go through another awkward introduction, the house lights dimmed. Mard Geer and Seilah came out and took their seats as the music began.

* * *

The show itself was delightful, with Mira singing the role of Christine. Laxus made it through the intermission mindlessly listening to Richard "Hoteye" Buchanan ramble about some troublesome patient of his in The Netherlands, while debating if drinking the entire bottle of scotch was some sort of social _faux pas_. After the grand finale, while the actors were taking their bows, Mard Geer stood to leave, not wanting to sit through such a trivial part, which made Freed scowl as he continued to applaud with the rest of the theater.

"At least show appreciation," he grumbled after the senator was gone.

"Guess who I'm _not_ voting for next election," Laxus agreed.

When Mira came out and took her bow, Freed leaped to his feet and cheered loudly. "Brava! Brava, Mira!"

Hoteye leaned over to Laxus. "He knows the lead singer?"

"Childhood friends, apparently," Laxus told him.

They waited in the lounge for the crowd to disperse. Hoteye gave a boisterous farewell as he left, since he had valet parking and did not have to worry about the busy parking lot. That left Freed and Laxus alone in the lounge, sitting on a couch together.

"So, did you enjoy it?" Freed asked, having another glass of wine.

"Mira's voice really fits that role."

"Yeah, like she was born for it. Another Sarah Brightman!" he grinned, excited for his friend.

"I'm glad to see you so happy."

Freed blushed and hid his face down in his wineglass, taking a small sip. Laxus' hand rested on his slender thigh, which made Freed's cheeks feel even hotter.

"After that drop Tuesday … I was really worried about you. I could hardly think about anything else other than wanting to make you happy."

Freed rested his hand on top of Laxus' and threaded his fingers between those thick digits. "You always make me happy. Just seeing you cheers me up after a hard day at the office. Having you on the weekend like this…" He squeezed Laxus' hand. "It's a dream, an incredible dream."

"I'm no dream Freed." He cupped the flushed cheek. "I will always be right here for you."

Such deep, solemn words left Freed speechless. He looked up into those blue eyes, narrow now with seriousness, and felt filled up with the deluge of love in that gaze. _Always._ He wanted to believe, to hope … maybe … maybe this could be something that could be _always_. Always them, coming to the theater, sleeping in bed together, eating breakfast while watching the news, doing laundry together, loving and living and just _being_ together … always.

"They probably have security cameras in this room, right?"

Freed laughed softly. Did he really have a wish to make love here, in the middle of the Magnolia Opera House? "I would assume they do for the safety of the patrons."

"Figured as much. But I don't need sex right now. It'd be fun, still … giving you a blow job here."

"G-g-giving _me_?" he stuttered in surprise.

"Yeah. Treating you, spoiling you, like you always spoil me."

"I … I don't spoil you," he protested.

"Freed, you're giving me a place to live, practically for free."

"You're paying rent," he said timidly.

"I'm paying a fraction of the rent. I saw what the monthly due is. I could never afford even _half_ of that."

Freed cringed. He had tried to keep the actual rent of their condo a secret.

"You spoil me, and not just with your money. With everything you do. With all the love you show me." Laxus chuckled and shook his head. "I'm truly being spoiled. I try to pay you back in what ways I can. Even this, although I screwed up. Anything I can do to repay, to balance things … but it's not enough. A single lifetime isn't enough to pay you back for how rich you've made my life."

Freed felt a shiver of hope again. Was Laxus … maybe … saying…?

His fingers stroked through Freed's silky green hair, watching the dim lounge lights sparking through the strands. "I love you so much."

Tears were threatening to come to his eyes, and his throat choked up as he replied, "I love you, too."

"Freed." Laxus stopped playing with Freed's hair and looked down at him with an austere grimness. "Will you…"

Freed froze, not even breathing. Was he going to ask?

"… let me kiss you?"

His shoulders dropped. A kiss? Freed laughed softly, realizing he was being silly, getting his hopes up like that. He nodded and turned his face up. Laxus had a warm smile as he leaned over and gave Freed a tender kiss.

_'Fuck, I couldn't say it! I guess it's not time. We were arguing just earlier. Today wasn't good, that's all. Some other time, then. When it's the perfect time, I'll know it. Maybe then, I'll actually be ready for it, too. Like a fucking ring! Goddammit, what was I thinking, not even having the damn ring. Like I can afford that shit! If I was to pay him back for spoiling me, I should buy my own goddamn ring with my own money. Fuck … and that was a good setup. What the hell is wrong with you, Laxus?'_

Despite screaming at himself internally, when Laxus pulled back and saw the relaxed happiness in Freed's face, he knew he did not have to worry. There was time.

Besides, he had a plan, a special surprise for their one-year anniversary. Today just seemed really good. Or maybe the scare on Tuesday messed up his brain, made him terrified about losing Freed. He should not ask something like that if it was out of fear. It should be purely out of a desire to make this love truly _always and forever_.

"Are you ready for some dinner?"

Freed overcame his nervousness and nodded. Besides, he wanted to be the one to ask. Laxus may think he was spoiled, but Freed knew the truth. Money was just money, and it was his father's money, mostly. Money did not count. Freed's life had been destitute and lonely before Laxus. He wanted to thank him in the only way he knew how.

He just feared it was too soon. He felt this proved it. He was getting his hopes up, and obviously Laxus was more than happy dating and living together.

Besides, it had not even been a year. It was the beginning of June. They had hooked up on the 30th of August.

They had time.

* * *

After dinner, they headed home. Laxus offered to cook while Freed showered. As he set a pot to boil water for pasta, he heard the shower streaming and humming from the bathroom.

Laxus chuckled to himself. Freed rarely sang, but he loved to hum. He was apparently a musical genius, although his parents did not urge him to continue, guiding him instead into a life of business and the road to becoming a CEO.

Laxus wondered if things had been different. What if Freed had become a musician? Maybe he could play piano in a club, and Laxus could be the bodyguard. It was a silly imagination, but he liked Freed's music.

Laxus turned down the stove and crept to the bathroom, silently stripping out of his clothes. Freed was oblivious, lost in the heat of the water and _Music of the Night_. Suddenly, he began to sing aloud.

_Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams.  
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before.  
Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar,  
And you'll live as you've never lived before._

Laxus suddenly slipped into the shower, startling Freed. Before he could cry out, Laxus placed his finger to Freed's lips and smirked. Then, as he rarely did, he serenaded Freed.

His deep voice was not at all suited for the Phantom, it was in the wrong key, but hearing Laxus sing melted Freed. That sensually low voice tingled every part of his body … especially as Laxus seduced him in the shower.

"Softly, deftly, music shall caress you…" He ran his hands up and down Freed's soapy body, gliding over his smooth skin and devouring him with his eyes. "Hear it, _feel_ it…" He reached down and stroked Freed's already hardening arousal. Laxus smirked to see the embarrassed flush and feel the quick response to his touch. "…secretly possess you."

He thrust Freed against the tile wall, but as he ground their hips together, he kept on singing, nearly snarling at times.

"Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness which you know you cannot fight." He paused and looked down with eyes filled with lust and adoration. Softly, barely a whisper, he sang, "The darkness of the music of the night."

Freed gulped. To be seduced like this to his favorite song of his favorite musical … he used to have wet dreams like this. Now it was a reality.

"I can't remember the rest," Laxus admitted. "So I'll kiss you … fuck you … and listen to a different _music of the night_."

Freed shuddered at the promise of pleasure. As Laxus knelt and gave a playful lick to his arousal, Freed knew who was the true _Phantom_ here. He was just as helpless and seduced by his charm and raw power as poor Christine had been to the singing masked man.

Electric blue eyes turned up to him, and Laxus commanded in a whisper, "Sing, my Angel of Music!" He thrust all of Freed's cock into his mouth in one gulp.

The voice that cried out of that throat was no opera, but it was music to Laxus' ears.

**Next Chapter: A New Storm Rolls In**

* * *

_A/N: I do not own the music to "The Phantom of the Opera," nor do I make money from this fanfic. (Just covering my legal ass.)_

_"You'll be going to car shows and eating Jack-in-the-Box." - My first date with my husband was a car show and dinner at Jack-in-the-Box._

_I love Phantom of the Opera. I've seen it live three times, once at the Ahmanson Theater in Hollywood (my brother-in-law's best friend was on keyboard in the pit and got us free tickets), my husband took me for my birthday in 2008, and I watched the 25th anniversary live broadcast from the Royal Albert Hall, which luckily happened on our wedding anniversary, so it was a treat to us both._

_Once my dad won tickets to box seats. I personally didn't like it. You're way off to the side which makes for weird acoustics (musician that I am) although you can see the stage well since you're right up front, and it was nice having the lounge during intermission rather than a long wait for the restroom and shoving your way through the crowds. I don't know if all box seats have lounges, but Magnolia Opera House does._

_I said in the first chapter, this modern AU is set in America to make it easier for me. Mard Geer is a Senator. In U.S. politics, Congress is made of the upper chamber Senate and lower chamber House of Representatives. Each of the 50 states has two only Senators. In contrast, Representatives are elected balanced proportionally by population. Thus over-populated California has 53 Representatives, but barren Alaska has only one. Senators represent the state as a whole, while Representatives carry the "sentiment of the people." So there are 100 senators in the Senate, and 435 elected officials in the House of Representatives. The Senate serves longer terms (6 years instead of 2) and has powers the House does not, like agreeing to treaties, confirming federal judges, and trial of any federal official who has been impeached (like the President). That's your American-government-in-a-nutshell lesson for the day, and that makes Mard Geer one of the most politically powerful people in the country.  
_


	42. A New Storm Rolls In

Chapter 42

**A New Storm Rolls In**

Freed stared at the computer screen, typing a cover letter for one of their company's clients. It had to be worded just right. Although the letter would probably be skimmed over in a few seconds, Freed spent many minutes making sure it was concise but contained all necessary information.

He flipped over to another screen that showed a spreadsheet of the last quarter's earnings, making sure the numbers were correct. This was definitely not the time to switch around numbers.

Satisfied, he clicked send…

And his screen went blank. The other screen with the spreadsheet flashed and went black as well.

"Dammit!" he screamed, not meaning to cuss, but it shocked him. It seemed Laxus' bad habit of using foul language was rubbing off on him. Still, all that work! Lost!

Another junior manager named Wakaba walked over. "Something wrong?"

"I just lost the cover letter I was working on. It's due in half an hour!"

Wakaba looked at the two screens. "Call up Warren in tech support. If you can't get it back up in ten minutes, come over to my desk and log in there. The email system should have saved a backup, although you might have to rewrite anything you did in the last five minutes."

"Thank you. Sorry for the outburst."

Wakaba laughed and patted his shoulder. "It's happened to all of us, Freed."

He smiled, glad the team was calling him _Freed_ again and not _Justine_ anymore.

Just then, a woman with bobbed hair and thick glasses came forward. "Mister Justine?"

Freed bristled. Laki was his father's secretary. If she was here, his father wanted something. There was no way his father could have known about him cussing just a moment ago, so hopefully he was not in trouble.

"The CEO wishes to see you in his office." She stood there, waiting, knowing he had no choice but to come immediately.

Wakaba patted Freed's shoulder again. "Go check on that. I'll call tech support and see if they can fix your computer."

"Thank you," Freed nodded.

He left his desk to follow Laki up the elevator to the top floor, where his father oversaw this massive corporation in his posh office. As he stepped in, he saw his father was not alone. The head manager, Macao Conbolt, was with him as well.

"Sir, the young Mister Justine is here," Laki announced with an elite primness to her voice.

"Thank you; that is all," Llewellyn said, and she slipped away, shutting the office door behind her. "Freed, please come forward."

Freed privately hated meeting his father at work. Here, he was not _Father_. He was Chief Executive Officer of the Justine Corporation, a group Llewellyn's father started, then he took over, and Freed was destined to one day continue the tradition, making the company grow larger and stronger. Within these walls they could not be father and son, not fully. He was an employee with potential. That was all.

Freed stepped up to the desk, and when Llewellyn waved to the smaller chairs in front of him, he took a seat. Macao also sat, and Freed saw a pinch to his brow.

"Freed," Llewellyn began with a deep, stern voice. "I'm a bit concerned about your performance."

Freed's spine immediately stiffened. "Am I not meeting performance standards?"

"You are, but only barely. You're … _distracted_, and it's hurting your results."

"I was feeling a little under the weather last week," Freed admitted, recalling the sub-drop, "but I assure you, I'm better now."

"I was aware of your illness, and it's admirable that you continued to work despite your health. I'm not talking about just that. It seems that since you started to work here, you've only just barely met minimum performance standards. You get your work done on time, but often just barely. You've never really given yourself a buffer in case something unforeseen happens. We would prefer if your work did not come skating in just before the deadline."

Freed stiffened his chin. "I will work faster, sir."

"Not just faster. The quality of your work is commendable. I want that same quality to continue, not slacken in order to increase delivery time." Llewellyn sighed, folded his hands on his desk, and leaned forward, showing this was more personal now. "Freed," he said softly, "if you were a _normal_ employee, your work would be enough to get you by without a single complaint. I don't wish to put more burden on you, but the fact is that you're _not _a normal employee. You are my son, and we're aiming to have you in a lead managerial position as quickly as possible. That means that while you're a junior manager, you _must_ exceed all standards. Otherwise, it's obvious nepotism. I will not stoop to that. I made it into this position by working by my father's side when we were still running out of his house. I didn't just work as hard as him. I worked _harder_. There's not a single person who questioned the fact that I succeeded my father. You must be the same. I wish with all my heart to give this company over to you, but I must know you will not let the blood and sweat of two generations of Justines flounder in laziness."

Freed gulped, feeling the immensity of his responsibilities.

"Don't push deadlines again. By the way, your computer is perfectly fine, and your email was sent without trouble. I set up the fake crash to show you precisely what I meant. That cover letter is due in half an hour, and you were just now about to send it. If your computer really had crashed, do you honestly think you could have rewritten that letter in thirty minutes?"

"Not at the same quality, sir," Freed admitted, torn between relief that his hard work had not been lost, but also anger that his father scared him in such a cruel way.

"The letter could have been finished early this morning. Your perfectionism gets in the way of your efficiency. Try to find a balance between the two. Continue to make me proud."

Freed nodded sternly. "I will do my hardest, Father."

"I look forward to seeing an improvement. Good job up until now. Just work a little faster."

"I will, sir."

"Dismissed."

Freed rose, bowed slightly, and left the office. As he stepped out, before the door shut all the way, he heard Macao's voice.

"His work is without flaw, Mister Justine. Aren't you pushing him too hard?"

"I told you, Macao. As my son, he must prove he deserves the position. Would you recommend someone with his performance record for a managerial position?"

The door shut, so Freed did not hear Macao's reply to the question, but Freed already knew what sorts of standards his father demanded. Especially as his son, proving himself worthy was almost more important than the actual work he was doing as a mere junior manager.

When he got back to his desk, the computer was up and working perfectly fine. Freed sat and looked at the dual monitors. Sure enough, his email sent ten minutes ago, and the spreadsheet was still on his screen. It had been a test, a lesson. He was too slow. If he wanted to continue in a fast-pace corporate world, he had to figure out a way to do his work quicker.

Freed worked furiously the rest of the morning. He ate some vending machine food for lunch while remaining at his desk. As two o'clock rolled around, Macao come over to his desk.

"We want you to work faster, not make yourself sick from fatigue," he warned quietly to not disturb the other employees.

"I assure you, this much is fine," Freed said, and his fingers never stopped typing.

"You've not taken your fifteen minute break."

"I did not need one, sir."

"Freed—"

"Mister Freed Justine?"

Both looked up at the janitor, Max, nervously twisting his broom in hand.

"Sorry for disturbing you, sir," the janitor said deferentially. "The front desk's phones are down so they sent me. There's a visitor come to see you."

"Visitor?" asked Freed. He had never had a visitor to the office and wondered if it was Evergreen. No, she would simply text him, and his mother knew better than to disturb him at work. Bickslow was still in rehab. Who could it be?

Max stepped a little closer, reeking of cleansers. "You're not in trouble with the Mafia, are you?" he asked softly.

Freed jolted. "What? No! Why would you ask?"

Max gave a wide shrug. "He's got the tailored mafia suit and everything. The guy looks like trouble. When there's trouble, I'm the one who has to clean it up, so I don't want trouble."

"What … what sort of trouble?" Freed muttered, feeling a little nervous now. Was this someone his father knew? Was his family actually involved in shady dealings? Was it a person there to blackmail the Justines? Or worse, could it have something to do with Laxus and his past?

Max shrugged again. "I'd stay on the other side of the security gate, if I were you. That's all."

"Go see to it," Macao told him. "While you're at it, take your fifteen. This company actually can get in trouble for employees _not_ taking breaks, so consider it an order. Fifteen minutes, no working."

"If you say so, sir," Freed sighed, making sure all of his work was saved first.

He headed down the elevator to the ground floor lobby. When he stepped out, he heard the repeating commercial-like introduction talking about Justine Corporation, some woman lauding their expansions and listing their awards. Maybe it was impressive to visitors, but he bet the people who worked in the lobby got sick of hearing how _great_ their company was.

The visitor's check-in was near the front doors, with security guarding the rest of the building. They had to pass through one of two metal detectors, and only an employee badge or special permission from someone in the company got a person access to the rest of the building.

Beyond the security entrance, Freed saw a man in a suit with his back to him, staring out the glass doors, the light silhouetting his hulky body. Freed's face burst into a smile right away.

"Laxus!"

As the blond turned around, Freed saw he was indeed wearing a black suit with a white shirt and black tie. No wonder Max feared he was with the Mafia. Such a massive man with a scar on his face in a stiff suit like that, it was a miracle security let him even deliver a message to Freed.

Freed went past the security check and up to him. He wanted to give him a hug and take his hand, yet the title JUSTINE CORPORATION and the company logo etched into the glass doors reinforced just where he was and his position.

Laxus had a subdued smile pinched with sadness. "Sorry for coming without any warning. I wasn't sure if I should call you at work."

"You can always text me," Freed assured. He eyed the suit again. Although it looked nice, it was incredibly rare to see Laxus wearing anything other than muscle shirts and leather pants. "Is anything the matter?" he asked worriedly.

"Yeah," Laxus muttered. He looked around at the cavernous lobby and up to chandeliers giving the building an old-fashion feel, something hearkening to an older generation. "Something came up, and … and I'll have to be away for a few days."

Freed's heart nearly stopped. "Your dad?" he blurted out.

"No! No, not him." Laxus looked aside with awkwardness. "This … I seriously never thought it'd happen. Ever!"

Freed felt cringing dread creeping through his veins. "Laxus?"

He glanced around the elegant lobby again, realizing how utterly out of place he was. "One of my former clients—"

Freed's throat clenched as he spoke of that past.

"—named me as an heir."

Time stopped, and Freed blinked. "Whuh?" Of all the dreads that surged in that split second, this one caught him by surprise.

Laxus let out a scoffing laugh and shook his head. "Yeah, exactly. What the hell was that old man thinking?"

"Y-you're an … an heir? To a fortune?" Freed asked in disbelief.

"Not quite like that. I don't know the word for it. I inherited … something … I don't even know what it is yet."

Freed stared straight ahead. "You're a beneficiary."

"Yeah, that's it. I swear, if I'm inheriting that bastard's dildo collection, I'm gonna desecrate his fucking grave."

Freed jolted. "Laxus!" he whispered sharply.

He sneered and looked away, having forgotten to watch his mouth. "Anyway, I gotta go to … whatever it's called. Big meeting thing where all these people get whatever the old bastard left them. Fuck, I'm gonna have to see his family. An' they'll ask how the hell did he know me. I can't really use the electrician story."

"Do you want me to go with you?" he asked quietly.

"No!" Laxus snapped quietly. "Freed, you might know these people! If that damn will mentions _how_ he knows me, you'd be fucked. If it's just me, I can handle it, but these are rich sons-of-bitches, and I don't want you near them."

Freed was not sure whether to feel honored that Laxus was watching out for him, or sad that he was being left at home.

"Look, I'm sorry," Laxus muttered. "If it was anything else, I'd be begging for you to come with me so you can tell me which fork to use, but I don't want to put you at risk. This is something I've gotta do alone, because I don't know how it's gonna turn out."

Freed nodded in understanding. "Just be safe."

"I will," he whispered, smiling at how Freed worried over him. Laxus began to reach forward, but the elevator dinged, reminding him that they were still in the open. "Can we go somewhere?"

Freed glanced around at the office lobby. "I'm on break, but I can't leave work."

"Just somewhere," he said, edging on desperation. "Some place where I can kiss you goodbye."

Freed melted a little. "Restroom?"

They both walked over to the sign for the men's room. Freed walked in and quickly checked all of the stalls. It was completely empty. He nodded to Laxus, and they took the last stall.

"We can kiss here if we're quiet."

Laxus looked down sadly at him. "You know I want to do much more than kiss you." His fingers stroked through Freed's hair. "So much more!"

Freed gulped dryly. His arms wrapped around Laxus' waist and pulled him in closer. "Maybe?"

"No," he scolded, although he smirked at seeing such a needy face. "You'd get in so much trouble."

"I don't care," Freed moaned, pulling him closer until their hips pressed together.

"You're the CEO's son!"

A devious gleam lit up those turquoise eyes. "Exactly! It's not like I'd get fired."

Llewellyn played a hard game, but Freed knew the truth. If he ever did screw up badly, Llewellyn would bend over backwards to save him from disgrace. Freed was his heir, and Llewellyn was determined to keep the company within the family. He demanded a lot because he knew Freed could deliver, but the truth was that Freed would never actually be fired, not unless he did something truly disastrous to the company.

Laxus let his imagination run wild. _God_, he wanted to! Still, he felt the pressure of what this place was. The Justine family name was all over this building. He and Llewellyn had issues in the past. He felt like he was in enemy territory.

"Please," Freed whispered, already trying to frot up into Laxus. "Before you go. I need it. After the day I've been having … I _need_ it! Please."

_Oh fucking hell!_ How was he supposed to say no when Freed begged like that?

Laxus suddenly slammed Freed to the wall, kissing him viciously and clawing at his ass. He thrust up hard against him, rocking his hips over the black trousers. Freed moaned at the pleasure, but Laxus slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Shit, Freed, remember where you are!"

His body still tingled though, because he knew _precisely_ where he was. His father's company!

When Freed's eyes flicked up to him, Laxus saw more than lust. He saw rebelliousness and defiance. That was when he realized what this was to Freed. It was similar to the blow job in the parking garage. This was more than just a taboo of making out at work. This was making a claim on his boyfriend right under his father's nose.

"You want it this badly?" Laxus asked in amusement.

Those eyes still glared in what was definitely no longer an angel. No, he was a little demon now, dark and dangerous. Freed's hand reached out and suddenly grabbed Laxus by the tie.

"Here. Now," he demanded.

Laxus chuckled slyly. "As you command … Mister Justine."

Freed felt a shiver through him at the name. When coworkers called him that, it was in honor of his heritage as the son of the CEO and destined future leader of the company. When Laxus said it, it was in mockery to all that bullshit.

Laxus' hands roamed up his shirt, feeling the taut muscles hidden under so much propriety. "This is your place, you're the boss, so you can order me around this time."

He thought Freed would whimper and act embarrassed. He had not anticipated the aristocratic dominance that seemed to fit Freed scarily well in this location.

"In that case," Freed grinned fiendishly, and Laxus briefly wondered if he had just unleashed a beast of hell. Freed suddenly yanked Laxus' tie down, forcing him to his knees.

"What the—?"

Freed smirked, and it took no words to understand his command.

_This little bitch!_

Laxus rubbed Freed through the suit pants. "Ya want it that badly, huh?"

Freed flinched at the pleasure, already hardening up. Laxus kissed along the zipper line and breathed hot air into the wool fabric. Freed tensed and gulped down a moan.

"Ya on a break?" he asked as he lowered the zipper and reached in.

"Fifteen minutes," Freed hissed as Laxus stroked him through his underwear. He was now thankful to Macao for demanding that break.

Laxus eased the aroused cock out of the underwear and through the opening in the slacks. "Gotta be quick then. Don't hold back." Without any pretense, he began to bob on Freed's cock, gliding his mouth back and forth, fast and steady.

Freed hissed, and his fingers crumpled Laxus' tie. "Don't make a mess. I have to wear this suit all day."

Laxus glanced up, his mouth full, and said around the cock, "As you wish, Mister Justine."

Freed inhaled sharply, thrilled to hear Laxus call him that.

His fist was still wrapped around Laxus' tie, pulling him in closer, sometimes tugging to urge him on. His other hand alternated between rubbing through Laxus' hair and reaching up to cover his own mouth when it felt too good.

His father was in this building! Twenty floors up, sitting in his office behind his mahogany desk in his leather chair, clueless as to what his son was doing. He always had to obey his father when he was here. He had to meet outrageous expectations while also leading massive projects thrown at him in hopes that he could prove his leadership abilities as quickly as possible. He faced a sharp duality, expected to take on leadership roles, yet always under the thumb of his father.

Except for now.

Now, he was defying his father. He was defying them all. Macao, Wakabi, even Laki. He would do what none of them dared. He knew he could get away with it, because even if he got caught, this time—_this time—_his father was under _his_ thumb. If they got caught, his father would scramble to cover it up. His father would bow to his whims. When it came to him and Laxus, he was truly free from his family's legacy.

"Laxus," he hissed in warning.

"If I can't make a mess, you can't make a noise," Laxus insisted.

Freed nodded with tight lips to hold back.

Laxus did not let up. He reached a hand forward and gave light tugs to Freed's balls through the fabric, rolling them, cupping them, urging him on.

"Shit," he gasped, toes curling up within his wingtip shoes.

Laxus pulled back. "Quiet!"

"Seriously, don't stop!" Freed warned, sweating, face aflame, and struggling to stay quiet.

Laxus slid back on, tasting dripping pre-cum and feeling Freed's whole body coiling. His breathing was beginning to struggle erratically, and his hips thrust on their own. Laxus sucked harder and stroked the base, occasionally skimming his balls.

"N-now!"

Laxus was ready for it. He felt the grip on his tie tighten. He was yanked in closer right as Freed thrust his hips and slammed the other hand over his mouth again to mute a cry.

He was claiming his lover! Claiming Laxus, here in the company owned by his father! Claiming him right under his father's nose!

And _damn_ did that affect him!

Laxus felt the liquid pouring out and filling his mouth. He did not want anything to drip, not a single stain to get onto Freed's clothes, so he gulped it down and used a hand to wipe drool from his chin so it would not get onto the wool pants. He stayed there, on his knees, looking up at Freed and burning that erotic face into his memory.

Slowly, the hold on his tie grew weaker. Freed collapsed back against the wall, flushed and spent. Laxus sat on his heels, grabbed some toilet paper, and wiped Freed clean. Then he gently tucked him back away, zipped up the slacks, and straightened both of their clothes.

"Better?" he asked, standing and admiring the flush on Freed's cheeks.

Freed was still in a daze and looked up. "I … I can … just give me a moment. I'll … do you."

"You owe me nothing." Laxus slicked his hair back where Freed had ruffled through it. "I should get going."

Freed jolted, and his panting froze. "Wait! I can still—"

Laxus touched his face tenderly. "We only had fifteen minutes, and we talked too long. Time's up."

"I … I can call upstairs, extend my break. Macao even said—"

"Freed." Laxus merely shook his head. "I wanted to remember your taste. This is enough."

"But … but you're still…" He glanced down as he realized Laxus was flaccid.

"I took care of myself while sucking you off," he explained. "Jerking off into toilet paper in the boy's bathroom! Feels like I'm a fucking teenager again."

"You were jerking yourself off?" Freed whispered in surprise. He had been so lost in pleasure, he had not realized that Laxus was doing anything to himself.

"Yeah, figured we were pressed on time, plus my balls were burning. I just needed you," he said, tracing along Freed's throat. "Needed to taste you, to let you know I'm coming back soon and to wait for me."

"I'd always wait," he swore longingly, putting his fingers over Laxus' hand and leaning in to the touch.

Laxus smiled at the blissful expression and kissed Freed's forehead. "Luckily it won't be long, one or two nights tops. We'll go out somewhere nice with whatever I inherit."

Laxus began to turn, but Freed suddenly grabbed his tie again, stopping him from reaching the stall door. Freed's head was lowered in a petulant frown.

"… this again," he muttered.

"What?"

"I … I wanna … do this again."

Laxus smoothed down Freed's hair with a tender smile. "Work hard, get yourself an office, and one day I'll fuck you over the desk."

Freed's cheeks went bright red, but then he looked up with a gleam in his eyes. "Who said you'd be the one doing the fucking here?"

Laxus' mouth dropped in astonishment. Holy shit, Freed really was a little demon in the workplace! "If that's how you want it … Mister Justine."

Freed bit his lip at the name. He seriously did have a weakness for Laxus calling him that.

"While I'm gone, dream about that. Dream about hiding me under your desk to suck you off while making business deals and shit. Dream about being the boss over me, having your way with me, right here in this building. Dream of that!"

Freed gulped, knowing he really would keep thinking about that fantasy, not only in bed but while working at his desk.

Laxus chuckled, kissed his cheek, then looked wistfully into his eyes for a moment before leaning in again and giving Freed a lingering kiss on his lips.

"I'm saying my goodbye here, because we can't out there," he whispered, kissing him again. "Be good."

Freed cupped Laxus' cheek and replied, "Same to you."

He suddenly pulled on Laxus' tie again—the blond began to wonder if Freed had a fetish for this—and kissed him back with a bit of aggressiveness. Laxus was amused by this different, professional side to Freed. He had to admit, it was really hot!

"Thank you," Freed whispered with a smile that showed him he meant thanks for the sensual farewell present.

Laxus snorted a laugh. "Anytime!"

They were about to kiss again when someone entered the restroom and went straight to a stall. Laxus held a finger up to his lips and used his other hand to show that Freed should wait here. Then he silently mouthed _I love you_. Laxus kissed him again quietly before finally opening the door.

He stepped out first and lingered in the lobby. No one looked at him oddly for disappearing for so long. A minute later, Freed stepped out, looking just as refined and professional as when he first passed through the security checkpoint.

"Good luck with the inheritance," he said with comportment.

"Good luck with your own," Laxus replied, glancing up and around at the elegant lobby.

Freed stuck out his hand, and the two parted with a simple handshake. "Until then."

That was the only goodbye they could give here. "Right," he nodded, and Laxus turned toward the exit.

As he walked out the glass doors, his face showed nothing, but in his mouth his tongue swirled, still tasting the tang of Freed's cum.

**Next Chapter: "Hear Your Voice"**


	43. Hear Your Voice

_A/N: People liked my phone sex fic "Audio Without Visual" for Fraxus Love Fest, so this is similar but with a CTT twist._

_Miles and miles away,_  
_The only thing I can say_  
_Is I miss you._  
_I hear you on the phone._  
_It makes me feel so all alone._  
_Ooh, I want to kiss you._  
_— Allen Kemp, "Every Time I Hear Your Voice"_

_Audio drama: chirb =dot= it/Jnqa2c_

* * *

Chapter 43

**Hear Your Voice**

Freed stepped through the door to his condo and locked it behind him. He gave a loud sigh, already knowing it was going to be a long, boring night. Laxus was gone. Freed realized he had not even asked how he was getting to the estate meeting, considering Laxus could not drive. He assumed the person lived relatively close, so maybe he made it by taxi.

He began to wonder about it. Who amongst the city's elite had died? He could probably call his father and ask, see if some business mogul or politician recently passed away. However, he had no reasons to ask such a strange question, and bringing up Laxus to his father was throwing a live grenade at a dog eager to play fetch.

He wondered for a moment: had his father also written Laxus into his will? It was an odd thing to do, making some dominant you hired at a strip club a beneficiary. Maybe whoever this old man was, he did not have family. Maybe it was one final deliverance of hush money so his reputation would not be tarnished after death. Freed had many questions and no way to answer them.

He undid his shoes and opened the entryway closet to hang up his coat. Inside the closet was a note and the collar. The note had only two words, scrawled in Laxus' messy handwriting:

_Wear it!_

Freed blinked in surprise, but then he smiled fondly. Laxus knew his routine, knew that the first thing Freed did upon coming home was to remove his shoes and hang up his coat. He took the collar off a hook and caressed the leather. Laxus had picked the black collar, their first collar. Although he had a white one now as well, it was new and bought for his angel costume for the club. This collar … it was special. Their first!

He loosened his dress shirt and pulled his tie off. Then he strapped the collar on and looked in the hall mirror by the door. It looked so bizarre, still in work clothes but wearing this kinky bit of bondage. The juxtaposition made Freed blush. Laxus wanted him as his slave, even when he was not home.

"You know I'm always yours, silly," he said to himself. He looked down to the promise ring and touched the silver band. Inside the band was etched the words _Only You, Greenie_. Knowing Laxus was wearing his ring gave him confidence. Laxus would only be gone for a day or two. He was coming right back.

He continued on to the bedroom, and on the door was another note stuck on with tape. He chuckled to himself as he pulled the note down. Was this a game?

_Get naked. Don't wear anything for the rest of the night._

Freed laughed that Laxus was trying to order him around and humiliate him even when he was not home. He got into the bedroom, stripped, and opened his underwear drawer to change into some boxers for the evening. Maybe Laxus wanted him naked, but he could at least wear underwear. However, inside the drawer was yet another note.

_I said don't wear anything and I mean it. Now, take a picture of yourself nude and send it to my phone. I want to see you wearing my collar._

Freed chuckled as he shook his head. Laxus somehow knew, eh? He wondered just how many messages were left around the house, little orders for Freed to find and follow. He picked up his phone and positioned himself in front of the closet mirror, trying to look sexy for Laxus. He snapped the nude selfie and giggled. That was the first time he had ever taken a nudie, and it felt so naughty. He texted it to Laxus, wondering where he would be when he got such a risqué photo. Hopefully not in public, like in a restaurant!

A few seconds later, his phone pinged with a text from Laxus.

_'Since you sent this selfie, that means you were about to break my rule about remaining naked. Bad slave! As punishment, I want you to pleasure yourself. I've hidden a video camera somewhere in this bedroom. I'll be watching!'_

Freed's mischievous side froze in horror, and he gulped as he realized Laxus did more than just leave some notes. A hidden camera? He glanced around, wondering where Laxus placed it. He saw nothing on the walls or on the dresser. Just then, the phone pinged again.

_'I'm waiting!'_

Freed shuddered. Laxus was watching him. That made this more than just coming home and masturbating for a quick stress relief. He was being watched! And he had no clue where those eyes were. It made him tremble, as if a wolf was stalking him out in the woods, but he did not know where it was crouched.

He sat on the bed, feeling the blankets under his naked ass. Just the idea that Laxus wanted to watch him made him already feel a bit aroused, although he had not really wanted to come home and jerk off. He instead had planned to catch up on some of the shows he liked that Laxus was not fond of. He had a pile of anime he wanted to watch and thought this would be a good night. However, sitting there, he licked his lips. He could watch anime after he pleased his master. The fact that Laxus went this far, setting up notes and a camera, just to have Freed to himself even when he was away made him blush with happiness.

"Are you really watching?" he asked aloud.

He phone pinged, and when he looked over, there was a single word in a text. _'Yes.'_

"Why not call me up? A little phone sex could be nice."

Ping! _'You were a bad slave. You don't deserve to hear my voice.'_

So, that was his true punishment! Laxus would get the full pleasure of listening and watching Freed, but Freed could not listen in return. Instead of phone sex, he was performing alone, purely for Laxus' entertainment.

Ping! _'My dick is waiting.'_

Freed looked around again. Where was the camera? If he knew where, he could have played up to it. Then again, he would also know where to look away if he wanted to hide his face as he enjoyed his hand. Like this, he had no clue where to look and where Laxus would be focused on.

The more he let the unknown element of this setup get to him, the more embarrassed he got, which meant he was getting madly aroused, and he had not even begun to touch yet. Laxus was watching, waiting, somewhere in a hotel room far away. He wanted to please Laxus, even if it was remotely.

He reached down and wrapped his fingers around his half-hard cock. He began to stroke, closing his eyes and trying to pretend like this was a normal wanking. Still, he knew that somewhere Laxus was observing him, eying just how he blushed, watching his hand stroking. He was giving a performance, but his audience was unseen.

He remembered the exhibition. Then as well, he had been giving a show, but he was blindfolded. He never saw the audience out there. Still, part of him knew they were watching. This was different, though. At that time, Laxus had been the one doling out pain and pleasure. This time, he was doing all the work himself.

He heard the phone ping and stopped, opening his eyes in surprise. He glanced over, and with his clean hand he checked the message.

_'You don't look like you're enjoying yourself.'_

"I … I am!" he protested.

_'There is a gift for you in my top drawer. Use it.'_

Freed blinked in surprise. A gift? He already had a list of things it could possibly be, just from that much. He stood, his legs shaking already from the arousal, and walked to Laxus' dresser. In the top drawer was a box, and by the packaging Freed realized his assumptions were right. A sex toy!

Opening it, it was a little anal love egg. Although it obviously had a vibrator, Freed could not find either a switch to turn it on nor the remote.

Then he realized…

Laxus had the remote!

But it would not work over this distance, would it? Usually, two people had to be in the same room, or at least a few dozen meters. He wondered if Laxus could use this from afar. Maybe not. Maybe he got to know where the remote was hidden only if he was good.

He took it to the bathroom, prepping himself first, then thoroughly cleaning the bulbous egg. He returned to the bed, placed down a little towel to sit on so he did not get anything messy, pulled out lube, and finished the preparations by slicking up the egg. He shivered a bit, again wondering where the camera was, before spreading his legs and slowly pushing the egg up inside him. He moaned as it felt cold at first, but quickly warmed up. He laid on the bed, getting used to the feel.

Once he was used to the feeling of being filled up, Freed grabbed his cock again. This time, when he tensed a bit at his hand's friction, he felt the egg in his ass. He groaned, and he hoped Laxus could hear him. He hoped this was pleasing to his master. He imagined Laxus sitting somewhere, stroking himself as well, watching the video on his laptop and whispering his name.

"Laxus," he moaned.

There was a buzz in his ass, and Freed let out a definitively unmanly scream. His heart pounded with the shock, even after the vibration ended.

"Dammit, Laxus!" he bellowed.

The phone pinged again. _'That's for being naughty. The next time I order you not to wear clothes, I mean it … slave!'_

"I bet you wanted to use this anyway," he grumbled.

Ping! _'Continue. Pleasure me and I'll forgive you.'_

Pleasure him, huh? Freed wanted to. He wanted to look sexy for Laxus, even without being ordered. He squirted some lube into his hand and began to stroke himself.

The next time the love egg vibrated, Freed moaned instead of yelled. Laxus was being nice this time. The purring started low, just enough to give him more pleasure. Very slowly, the strength increased, and with it so did the speed of Freed's wrist. At one point, the vibrations grew really strong, and he thought he might end early, but then they dropped to a warm purr, and he found his hand also slowing.

"Laxus, more," he begged.

He thought Laxus might be cruel and turn it off, but instead the speed of the vibrator increased, and Freed let out a long, low moan of pleasure. Laxus really was listening to him, and in a way, he was pleasuring him.

"Laxus … I miss you." A tear slipped down. "Miss you."

As fun as this was, it reminded him that they were apart. He preferred Laxus' own touch, or at least his actual eyes staring, watching, and his voice ordering him around.

Suddenly, the phone buzzed with an incoming phone call. Freed jolted, ready to curse at the horrible timing, until he saw that the call was from Laxus. He hurriedly turned on the phone and put it on speaker to free his hand.

"Laxus!" he cried out in excitement.

"Fuck it, Freed, you are too damn hot for your own good. I can't even stay mad when I see you so fucking sexy."

He moaned to hear weariness in Laxus' voice, the harsh, husky tone he got after panting in pleasure. Definitely, Laxus must have been stroking himself to the erotic show Freed was giving.

"Laxus, talk to me."

"You keep doing exactly what you're doing. Keep doing it and don't you fucking stop until I'm done with you, got it?"

He groaned to be ordered with that dominant voice.

"How do you like my little present?"

"So good," Freed shuddered.

"I'm glad it works. Sorry if it scared you. Does it feel good purring inside your ass?"

"Mmh, yes. So good. I like it."

"Of course you do," he said smugly. "Do you want more? Beg for it!"

Freed began to writhe on the bed. "Please, master. Please, just a little more."

Laxus hummed in pleasure. "Such a good and polite little slave! I suppose you learned your lesson. You can have a little more."

Freed felt the vibrations go faster, and his mouth dropped open in a wanton moan.

"_Nnngh_ … master!"

"Don't come yet!" Laxus commanded, and Freed steeled back the desire to come, forcefully denying himself. "Good. So good." Freed heard heavy breathing over the line.

"M-master, if I may ask: is this pleasing you?"

"Yes," Laxus said with a slight groan. "You please me. You _always_ please me!"

"How can I please you more, master?"

"T-touch yourself," he panted. "Touch your nipples. I want to see you pinching your own nipples like a slut."

Freed stroked his fingers over his chest, then pinched himself. Right as did and moaned, he also felt the vibrator shoot up to full blast, and what he meant to be a sensual groan turned into a high yelp.

"Fuck, sorry. I'm sorry," Laxus said, and the vibrations settled back down. "My fault. Hand slipped. Fuck, Freed, that looks … damn, I really wanna fuck you so hard right now. So fucking hard!"

"Master," he mewled, pinching his nipples and enjoying the vibrations as well as Laxus' raspy breaths over the phone. "I wish I could watch you, too."

"I saved this for if you were a good boy. I think you're _good enough_. Open your laptop."

Freed wiped his hand on the sex towel under him and pulled his laptop off the nightstand. When he opened it, it was already set up for a video chat. He saw a call waiting from Laxus and clicked it. The video showed some generic hotel room with Laxus reclined on the bed, not looking at the camera but apparently watching something streaming onto the hotel television.

"Can you see me yet?"

"Yes," Freed sighed. Laxus was naked, and where the camera was set up, he saw the profile of his lover, back propped on pillows, cock in his hand, watching the television.

"I've got weird feedback, hold on." Laxus leaned over close to the laptop, smirked at the camera as his face filled the screen, and clicked something to mute the laptop so he could just listen to Freed's voice on the television. "There we go. Fuck, look at you. You look like a happy puppy. Are you that happy to see me, pet?"

"Mmm … yes, master." He melted a little, seeing Laxus aroused and pleasuring himself. It was a nice reminder of how much Laxus loved him and how much they needed one another. They could not even go a day without wanting each other.

"Do you like what you see?" He gave his cock a long, slow stroke up.

Freed groaned at seeing it flushed against those massive fingers.

"Put the laptop on the other side of you."

The order confused Freed at first, until he realized that the hidden camera must be to his left, which meant looking to the right was turning his face away. He unplugged the laptop so he could move it around to the other side of the bed.

"Better. Now … pleasure me, slave! Watch and see what I like, and aim to make me come. You're not allowed to come until I do. Understood?"

He gave a sassy, sly smirk. "And if I do?"

"Bitch," Laxus growled, and he clicked on his phone. Freed felt the vibrations turn to maximum, painfully arousing, then suddenly shut completely off. He rolled over to his own laptop, so that his glaring face filled Freed's screen. "Listen to me. If you come before me, your punishment will be to keep that little egg inside you tomorrow, all day. I will turn it on whenever I damn well please, for one minute at a time. You'll never know when I'll turn it on, you'll only know it'll last merely a minute, not enough to make you come in public, but enough to keep you on edge and aroused, _painfully_ aroused. I may turn it on while you're chatting with a client, or giving a presentation to coworkers, or addressing your CEO father. _That_ is your punishment if you disobey me again. So I recommend that if you feel the need to come, you stop yourself and you make me even more aroused, any fucking way you can think of, because I doubt you want _that_ as a punishment."

The mere thought horrified Freed.

"Fuck yes, that face of yours…" He clicked something on his laptop. "I just took a freeze frame of that face. You look terrified."

"That's the worst punishment, Laxus!" he cried out in horror.

"Oooh?" he asked deviously. "Good to know. I'll keep it around for when you're naughty. Now, you better figure out how to make me come before you do, because I really wanna torment you that way now. I'm gonna hold back. I may not even touch myself and just watch you fall apart." He folded his hands behind his head just to show he meant it.

Freed huffed and folded his arms over his chest. "Then I'm not touching either."

"Bitch. You forgot."

Freed felt the vibrations in his ass again.

"I can pleasure my slave anytime, anywhere. I suggest you make yourself irresistible."

"Laxus," he moaned shaking his head. "Turn it down."

"No."

"But … I … p-please."

"I'm waiting. Amuse me."

"N-no … I…"

The thought of what Laxus had planned was pure horror, but the imagined humiliation made Freed's whole body tingle with a dark thrill. The idea of wearing a sex toy to the office, of being pleasured by Laxus at absolutely any time, even if he had to sit in the main office with his father again … to have Laxus pleasuring him _in front of his father_!

Freed felt himself dripping and knew he was in danger. He had to do something quickly. Pain! Pain eased off the need. Freed scrambled off the bed, the egg still purring in his ass, and ran to the closet where they kept their toys. He could not spank himself, and self-flagellation did not appeal to him. However, there was one thing, something they had only used a few times.

He pulled out a box and opened the packaging, panting as the need to come grew worse. His hands shook as he pulled out of dildo-like wand and carefully inserted a glass tube with the tip like a mushroom cap.

"Holy shit, Freed! Is that…?"

He turned it on, and the glass tube glowed purple. He closed his eyes as he brought the cupped end toward his cock.

"Freed!"

A tiny arc of electricity tickled his skin, like tiny pinches. He turned the power up to its highest and stroked the violet wand down to his balls, where it started to burn and hurt. He cried out at the pain, and the need to come eased off.

"Holy fucking shit, Freed." Laxus was panting, and as Freed weakly glanced back to the laptop screen, he saw Laxus' whole body stiffened as he stroked himself furiously.

"Your … favorite … toy," Freed said, weak from holding back so desperately.

"You … that toy is only for _me_ to use!" he shouted.

"We never agreed to that." Freed stroked the violet wand along his cock again, this time at a lower voltage. It was an intense tingle, agonizingly pleasurable, leaving the skin warm and buzzing. It felt amazing on his cock and made him think of Laxus with those electrical touches.

"Who gave you permission?" Laxus demanded, but he was still stroking himself.

Freed smirked, not sure where to look, so he ended up looking at himself in the mirrored closet door. "You never said this toy was off-limits. Should I stop, master, or may I use it more?" He ended the request with a moan, arching his back slightly as the wand moved up over his chest, and the tiny zaps tingled his nipples.

"Fuck, Freed. Fuuuuck," Laxus moaned.

"It reminds me of you," Freed admitted. "My Thunder God. I only want you."

"Freed," he groaned. "Say that more."

"I want you," he whispered. Freed collapsed back onto the mattress, stroking his cock while the violet wand zapped his nipples. "I miss you. I miss your touches. I love how you thrill me. This wand doesn't even come close, but … it's good. It's like how you touch me, that same thrill. Mmmh, soooo … good! Love it so much."

"Freed … damn, Freed, you're … _nngh_ … amazing."

He heard Laxus' raspy voice and raised his head to look at the monitor again. Laxus was staring hard at the hotel television, watching the video of Freed, and stroking off to what he saw.

"I love watching how much I please you, master," he sighed. "Please, tell me how to please you more."

"S-sit … _fuck_ … sit up and … a little to the right. No, just sit back up against the headboard, that was a good angle."

He still wondered where the camera was, but he scooted up to the center of the bed and leaned against the headboard.

"Stroke yourself," Laxus commanded, and Freed obeyed. "Yes. So good. Now, put the violet wand on your balls again. Give yourself a few zaps for me."

Freed lowered the wand, and from the glass tube came a miniature shower of tiny electrical sparks. Freed tensed up from the pain and let out a loud moan.

"Oh … f-fuck! Fuck!"

"Laxus," Freed keened. "So … hurts … so good."

"Shit! Shhhhhit!"

Freed looked over at the laptop again. His own movements stopped, and he pulled the wand away, watching instead as he saw Laxus' face tight, teeth clenched, eyes slammed shut, as spurts shot out onto his stomach. Freed watched and smiled with happiness.

He had pleased Master.

"Bitch," Laxus whispered, staring up at the ceiling as he caught his breath. "Too sexy for your own good."

"May I come now, master?" he requested.

"No. Wait. Wanna … wanna watch," he panted. Laxus grabbed up a handful of tissues from the hotel's box and wiped himself up. "Okay. Do you need more?"

"If it pleases you, master."

"You please me … so much," he sighed. "If I was there, I would give you an incredible blow job for being this good. I would suck you off gently, slowly, and thoroughly."

Freed closed his eyes, letting Laxus' voice carry him closer. The vibrations in his ass grew stronger, and the wand went back up to his chest, lightly zapping his aching, tingling nipples.

"That egg in your ass should be my cock. That's _my_ ass, my territory!"

"Only you," he swore, writhing as he thought about what was engraved on his promise ring.

"Only you," Laxus repeated tenderly. "I want only you. Want you so much, all the time. When I get home, I'm going to make love to you. No wild fucking or kinks, just making love. I'm gonna take you and make you soar, an angel and a dragon!" His words softened as he sighed wistfully, "My angel!"

Those endearing words ached Freed's heart but also tingled down his spine. When Laxus simply made love to him, he could be so tender, and all the love poured out in each and every thrust. He loved Laxus' kinky side and the painful pleasure they did together, but he loved the gentle side as well.

"L-Laxus! I miss you." A tear slipped down. "I miss you!"

"Same, Freed. Soon. Soon, I'll touch you everywhere. I'll kiss every part of your body. I'll worship you like the Rapture was tomorrow, and I'll show you a glimpse of heaven and hell. I'll fill up that ass of yours, all the way to the hilt, make you feel so full … so full of _me_! I'm gonna fucking possess you."

"Laxus!" he moaned.

"I'm gonna spread you so wide with my cock, and I'm gonna stay inside your ass as long as I can. Hell, maybe I'll make love to you once, wait with my cock still inside, and after I get my second wind, I'll fuck you. Fuck you hard! Fuck you like no tomorrow."

"A-ahhh!" The gentle love-making was nice, but when Laxus went wild, that thrilled him as well.

"Slam you into that bed, pound my cock right into you until you scream."

"Laxus!" he howled as his toes began to curl.

"Dammit, you got me hard again," Laxus grumbled, and he began to stroke his cock. "You slut, making me want it twice in a row. Such a slutty little slave. Just look at you. Fuck, so slutty, so fuckable. You're made for my cock, Freed. Custom-made, no one else. Only you, and you pleasure my cock … _so fucking good!_"

Freed felt the coiling deep inside ready to snap.

"NOT YET!"

"No!" he screamed. There was no way he could hold back more.

"Freed, I just … need little more."

"N-no … no! Coming!"

He felt it snap, and his body jolted. He heard Laxus cursing softly, mad that Freed was ending sooner than he could go a second time, but also he heard muttered exclamations.

"That's beautiful … fuck, so hot … look at you … Freed, you're … you're so … amazing."

As the rushing high faded, Freed laid back and let those words flow over him like Laxus' soothing hands after hard sex.

"The … vibrator," he huffed wearily.

"Right, sorry." He picked up his phone and clicked a button. "There, is that better?"

Freed hummed and smiled now that the purring had stopped and he could fully bask in the afterglow. Laxus watched the screen, how Freed stretched with cum dripping over his stomach, and he smiled in awe at this incredible man.

"Sorry for yelling at you," he muttered. "Ya just got me hard again."

Freed used the sex towel to wipe himself up, then curled toward the laptop. "Show me. Please. I need to see how I please you."

Laxus gave a sigh. "You can see for yourself, right?" He was still slightly aroused, although it was drooping now. "I'm probably too tired for another go anyway. Hell, I came earlier today while sucking you off. If I go for a third in one day, I won't wanna wake up in the morning."

Freed smiled and hugged a pillow. "Thank you … for setting this up."

Too … damn … cute. "Heh! I figured you deserve it for me leaving with so little warning."

Laxus stared at the television. He reached forward, but he realized that was not good enough. He rolled over, pulled the laptop forward onto the bed with him, and clicked a few things, bringing the display from the television back to the laptop. Now he was looking right at the camera, just as Freed was looking right at it. Both of their faces filled their screens. Laxus reached forward again, caressing the monitor.

"Touch your cheek for me."

Freed reached up and caressed his own cheek, closing his eyes to slits, looking only at the blue eyes in the monitor.

Laxus pouted. "This is the first night we'll be apart since I moved in. I hate it already."

Freed sighed at the inevitable reality. "It'll likely happen more in the future."

"Fuck that. I want you in my bed all the time."

"In a way, it's like you're in bed with me now," Freed said with a slightly shrug, although he knew it was not the same.

Laxus looked wistfully at the monitor. "I wish I really was Thor, and I could ride the lightning to you. Bang! A flash and I'm there holding you."

"Mmm … that would be nice," sighed Freed.

"What would you want me to do?"

He stretched lazily. "Make me a sandwich." He chuckled playfully. "I'm hungry now."

"Heh! Same. I skipped lunch since I was sick from the train ride. Hey, keep the collar on until you go to bed. I like to know you're wearing it. Tomorrow, put on the chastity belt. On your bathroom break, I want you to take a dick pic wearing that golden cage and text it to me."

"Mmh, so kinky," Freed smirked with a soft, naughty laugh. "In that case, you're not allowed to wear underwear tomorrow. I want to know you're sitting in that inheritance meeting commando, and when you come home, I want you without underwear so I can suck you as soon as we're together."

"I said I'm makin' love to ya first thing."

"I'll only suck a little, then. I want to remember the taste of your cock."

Laxus flinched at the dirty talk. "Dammit, Freed, I'm almost softened up and you say that?"

He laughed at the blush on Laxus' flustered face. "Am I allowed to wear clothes now?"

"No! Only the collar. You're my slave tonight, even if I'm not there, so I want you naked the whole time."

"Can I at least wear an housecoat? It's chilly in the living room."

"… Fine," he grumbled. "But naked under it, got it? Watch your anime shit or whatever, but you're still my slave. Mine!"

"Only you," he swore, smiling flirtatiously.

Laxus clicked something.

"What was that?"

"Print-Screen. That smile … damn, you're angelic at times," he sighed in longing.

Freed reached forward, touching the sad face in front of him and wishing he could cheer up his master. "I'll be waiting for you."

"Don't touch yourself again. Be saved up for me."

"Same goes to you. No jacking off in the shower while you're away."

"No way. It's no good anymore unless it's you." Laxus gave a heavy sigh. "Take care. Text me tonight."

"Can I call you before bed?"

"No. I'm hitting the bar. I plan to get drunk and pass out early so I can get this over with and return to you as soon as possible. If I sleep through it, I won't miss you as much, since I know I'll dream about you."

Freed hummed happily. That actually sounded romantic. "Then maybe I'll have some wine and sleep early, too."

"Whatever works. Sleep nude."

"Fine, but you too."

"Sure. So demanding for a slave, though," he admonished, lifting an amused eyebrow.

"Needy," Freed confessed. "I need to know … I dunno, I just _need_ to know."

"I get it," Laxus said gently. "I'll text before bed if I'm not too drunk, and I'll text you when I wake up."

"I'll call you at eight to make sure your drunken ass is out of bed."

"Bitch. Fine, but make sure you don't touch yourself in the morning."

"My cock is all yours, master. Only you may order it to rise and be pleasured."

"Oh shit, the things you say!" he hissed, blushing again.

Freed laughed softly at the expression. "Eat something healthy."

"Fuck that, I'm getting a burger."

"No flirting."

Laxus' forehead tensed. "Freed, you know I'd never!"

"I know," he smiled, glad to know that Laxus really would reject all flirtations.

Laxus looked flustered, being teased like that. "Cock cage tomorrow. Don't forget the dick pic."

"If it pleases you, master."

"Don't you forget who your master is!"

"Not a chance," he chuckled. "Return soon, master."

Laxus sighed and caressed the screen again. "I will. Love ya."

The screen blipped as the video vanished. Freed still sat there, staring at it sadly, already missing Laxus.

"Good night," he said to the blank monitor.

He looked over their king size bed and around at the room filled with his and Laxus' things. The house was too quiet, and the bed felt so large without him. Freed rose off the mattress, washed up in the bathroom, pulled a housecoat on, and walked out to the kitchen. He opted for a quick salad and poured himself a glass of wine. Then he sat on the couch with the meal and turned on the television to watch some anime to cheer himself out of his loneliness.

**Next Chapter: "Dream Lover"**

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_A/N: __The love egg is partly based on the **Dolce 10 Function App Controlled Bluetooth Vibrator**. __Some of these new vibrators work over WiFi with an in-app purchase, for long-distance usage. They can also be synced up with audio books. Imagine listening to "Catch the Thunder," and your vibrator begins to purr every time Laxus touches Freed. (I wish I knew how to make something like that!)_

_This chapter also introduces something many readers have been demanding: the violet wand. This form of electro-stimulation delivers a mild voltage, up to 50,000v. We'll see more of this toy that is totally perfect for the Thunder God. Violet wands range anywhere from $25 "facial therapy" wands to $800 deluxe high voltage kits with multiple toy attachments. Of course, I imagine Freed and Laxus decided to buy the very best: 5-Star Tesla Violet Wand Kit._

_For anyone wanting to see what these look like and links where to find them, try AO3, which allows me to post pics, links ... it's way more versatile:  
goo. gl/vTd8Xb_


	44. Dream Lover

_Audio: chirb =dot= it/sq9DL8_

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Chapter 44

**Dream Lover**

Freed read through a report about the Asian market growth. One detail in particular looked promising. If they could send some representatives to Tokyo next week and close a deal…

_EEEEEEEK … SHWUF … EEEEEEEK … SHWUF_

Freed heard the noise behind him. He knew the sound well. Once a week, at about this time, the window washer showed up. It was like clockwork, right during the lunch hour when most of the staff was gone. Not Freed, though. The CEO rarely had that luxury. The only time he went out to eat was when he brunched with clients.

He pulled out his phone, pretending to check some texts, but turned on his camera to selfie mode. He used it as a mirror, looking behind his shoulder. It was _him_ again. Blond, bulky muscles that showed through a wet tank top, part of a tattoo visible, tight beaten-up jeans, utility belt with safety lines hooked into the scaffold he used to reach the top floor of the building. Freed had noticed him for a while now. He was not in charge of hiring janitors, landscapers, or maintenance crew, but he had looked up this man's file in the company data bank.

Laxus Dreyar, age twenty-four. He had worked only odd jobs all his life: electrician, bouncer, something listed as "products demonstrator" which sounded fishy. No college education, no family besides an ancient grandfather, single … wonderfully single!

Freed put away his phone and stood from his desk. He walked up to the window, boldly facing the massive blond man. Their eyes locked through the pane of glass. The blond paused in his work and gave a curt nod.

"Morning, sir. I'll be done soon."

"Mmh, it's all right," Freed said with a smirk, still looking straight at him.

He saw discomfort on the scarred face and relished it. Laxus tried to return to his job, expertly swiping his blade over the glass, then using a rag to buff away any streaks. Freed knew other windows did not get such diligent care. This worker knew this window was special. It was _the boss's _window. Either someone told him to make sure it was wiped so there were no water streaks, or Laxus did it out of respect. Their previous window washer had not taken so much care, so Freed assumed it was not part of the standard orders. Laxus polished the window out of his own accord.

Freed noticed, too!

He tapped the side of the glass, where just a tiny streak of water was left behind. "Missed a spot."

Laxus glared at him, but he pulled out a squirt bottle hooked to his belt, normally used on the lower windows that got mud splashes or the occasional bird dropping on a window that needed extra care. He sprayed the spot, wiping it to perfection. He looked back to Freed, as if silently asking if everything was in order now so he could move on to the next window.

Oh, but Freed wasn't done admiring his _view_.

He shifted up close to the glass, leaned over slightly, and licked the window right over Laxus' crotch. The blond tensed up and instantly blushed at the lewd act. The step back he took rattled the scaffold. Freed raised back up with a devious gleam in his turquoise eyes.

"Missed a spot," he said again in an arrogant tone.

It took a moment for the blond to find his voice. "Sir, I clean the _outside_ windows."

"Well, clean this," he ordered, smirking at the discomfort.

Laxus grunted in exasperation and shook his head. Damn haughty rich asshole! "Apologies, sir, but I've got windows to clean. _Outside_ windows. There's janitors to do the inside."

Freed lifted his chin, glaring coldly now. How dare some _window washer_ take that tone with him! "Get in here."

Laxus scoffed and shouted, "Sir…"

"Now!" he bellowed.

Laxus swore those turquoise eyes were gleaming with an evil light. He dropped his gaze, realizing he had just yelled at the goddamn CEO of the company. Shit! He was in so much trouble, and he knew it.

Softly, he muttered, "Yes, Mister Justine."

He immediately began to lower his scaffold, but he shot one last glare at Freed before dropping to the next floor. Freed swirled around and marched back to his desk, feeling peeved. Some lowly window washer, talking back to _him_! It was a disgrace. Punishment was the obvious solution. If it had been any other employee, Freed would have fired the person on the spot for insubordination, but this man…

This man…

Maintenance crewman or not, he was special. Perhaps they could work out a _deal_.

Yes, a _very good_ deal.

A cunning smile curled on his lips. He pressed a button on his desk.

"Laki, one of the janitors will be up to see me."

"Janitor, sir?" the secretary asked in surprise.

"Yes," he smiled to himself. Oh, the _scandal_ this could cause! It excited him to think about it. "Make sure you let him in."

"Understood, sir. By the way, sir, you _do_ have a one o'clock appointment," she reminded, as if already knowing this would take time.

"Delay them fifteen minutes if you can."

Laki's tone of voice changed to one of sly comprehension, an accomplice in a devious scheme. "Understood, sir."

Freed sat back, picked up his cup of tea, and sipped it as he continued to peruse the article about the Asian market. He jotted down ideas on how Justine Corporation could use this to expand.

It was not even ten minutes before there was a knock on the door and Laki cracking it open to peek inside.

"Laxus Dreyar here to see you, sir."

"Thank you, Laki," he replied.

She stood aside, eying the blond wearing tight jeans and a muscle shity. She gave Freed one last keen smile, knowing the boss had chosen well, before closing the door.

Freed closed his laptop and pushed it aside. "Well, you came promptly. Maybe you'll keep your job after all."

Laxus had a scowl on his face, but he looked slightly worried as well. "Is my job in jeopardy, sir?"

Freed folded his hands on the desk and looked at him sternly. "That's going to depend."

He let out a huff and rolled his eyes, growling, "I can clean your window.

"Mmmh, but see, you talked back to me." Freed leaned forward slightly across the mahogany desk. "Do you know who I am?"

How could he _not_? His name was all over this building. "Yes, sir. You are Mister Freed Justine, CEO of this company."

"That's right. Do you really think it's a smart idea to talk back to _me_?"

Laxus looked away, barely holding back profanity, although his jaw twitched with the cursing going on in his head. Somehow, he managed to stay civil. "I apologize, sir."

Freed hummed, but shook his head. "Not enough." He stood and walked over to the window, folding his hands behind his back. "Do you like your job?" he called back.

"It pays the bills," Laxus muttered.

"Hmm … but you're not really satisfied, are you?"

What sort of interrogation was this? "It's what I can do, sir," he grumbled.

Freed turned around, smiling at him in a scheming way. "Oh, I think you can do a lot more than just wash windows, don't you?"

He walked up to Laxus. The man was much taller and almost twice as broad. Getting such a huge man under his thumb felt so satisfying. Freed knew he could do almost anything here and get away with it. Laxus knew his place, he knew whom he was dealing with, and he was slowly being beaten down.

"I think there's a lot of … _hidden talent_ … behind these muscles." His finger traced up the bulky biceps. "Am I right … Laxus … Dreyar?"

Laxus gulped hard under the sensual touch of that slender finger. "I wouldn't know, sir."

"Oh, I think you would," he smirked, licking his lip and chuckling smugly. Suddenly, Freed turned away again, leaving the man rooted to his spot while he roamed the office freely, showing that this was his domain.

Laxus was on edge. This insanely powerful businessman was obviously flirting, and yet also seemed to be threatening him. Threats alone, he would have said fuck it all and stormed out, leaving the job behind. However, it seemed like Mister Justine was leaving a trail of bread crumbs for him to follow which would lead him back to his comfortable, simple job.

Yet at what cost?

"Do you want to keep your job?" Freed suddenly asked.

Laxus was not going to surrender _that_ easily. "I could keep it or leave it."

Freed pouted and looked back at him, obviously disappointed. "Not very loyal, are you?"

"I'm a fucking janitor."

Freed raised an eyebrow. The man had a point. All businesses had janitors. Every single building in this city needed a cleaning crew of some sort. A man like this could probably find work anywhere.

Or so he thought!

"Would you like to continue working _in this town_?"

Laxus jolted at the threat. He had worked plenty of jobs up until now, none lasting more than a year. However, they had all been in Magnolia, close to where he lived. He had never lived anywhere else, nor gone more than an hour by city bus to a job.

"Sir, you don't have the authority—"

"Oh, yes I do!" Freed assured him.

His face now was dangerous, threatening, and it made Laxus shiver slightly. This was an aristocrat who knew precisely how much power he held in a world of corporate empires.

"You like living here, don't you?" Freed continued, slowly stalking back to his captured prey. "The job isn't _that_ bad, probably one of the best paying job you've ever had, right?"

"Best paying _honest_ job," Laxus admitted under his breath.

"Oh, you've done _naughty_ stuff, huh?" chuckled Freed. He _knew_ some of those jobs on Laxus' resume sounded suspicious. He walked right up to Laxus, amused by the skeptical glare as the burly man stood there so stiffly, terrified to even move wrong. "All you have to do," he said, eying him up and down and seeing how Laxus gulped, "is show me respect and obey my orders … and you keep your job. You'll even get a raise," he added with a scheming smile.

Laxus did not dare move, only staring hard down at the elegant but dangerous man. Quietly, judging his words now, he asked, "And what do I need to do?"

Freed leaned up into his face. "Company loyalty."

The answer caught Laxus by surprise. "What?"

"You have none." He stated it with disapproval, then suddenly turned away. Freed walked back to his massive desk and sat in the leather chair. He folded his hands over the tabletop and looked directly at Laxus. "I like to know that my employees are happy … and _loyal_. I need to know that _you_, Laxus, are loyal … to me."

Laxus knew he was still trapped, but he wondered if the cage was as dangerous as he feared. This confounded rich bastard kept throwing him off. What did he want? His words and actions conflicted. It left Laxus feeling unbalanced, and that was treacherous.

"What do I do, sir?"

Freed hummed in pleasure at seeing such obedience. Left without precise guidance, he would seek out instructions. Also—Freed could tell already—he would obey. "How about we start with something simple?" He yanked his hair to the side. "Massage my shoulders."

"What?" Laxus cried out, again being given something unexpected.

"Yeah. Shoulder massage," he said with an amiable smile, waving Laxus to come up to the desk. Still, the brawny janitor stood right where he was, his mouth dropped slightly. "Come on, you have muscles, large hands. Should be a simple task."

Laxus hesitated, but slowly he took a few step closer to his boss's leather throne. Freed sat up straight, his long hair tugged over one shoulder, waiting with a simple smile that hid the fact that this was merely a set up. Laxus knew it, too. Reel him in closer, get him accustomed to physical touch. Taming him! He was a wild beast, and he knew it. This man, though … this one man…

Maybe being tamed and domesticated by this man was not so bad.

Freed felt the heat of those hands on his shoulders. They were massive hands, but Laxus touched him gently, conscious of his strength, perhaps even worried about hurting him. It was a tender gesture. Laxus could have just grabbed his shoulders and crunched the muscles, yet he was diligently trying to obey, giving the best—if still awkward—shoulder massage he could.

"Oooh!" Freed moaned as the muscles stiff from working on the computer were rubbed out. "Down a little. Oh yeah!" he groaned in pleasure. "Ooh, that's the spot."

He heard a nearly silent noise behind him. His moans were obviously affecting the godlike blond. The noise, almost too quiet to be audible, made Freed's heart race with sadistic pleasure.

"Were you thinking it would be something else?" he asked slyly.

Laxus frowned but knew lying was pointless. "Somewhat, sir."

He looked around his shoulder and saw a blush on that chiseled jaw. "Were you _hoping_ it would be something else?"

The pink tint increased drastically and Laxus cleared his throat. "I don't know what you mean, sir."

"Yes, you do."

Freed boldly reached forward, groping what was an obvious strain in the crotch of those threadbare work jeans. Laxus cried out in shock, too stunned to pull away or even move.

"You were getting excited, weren't you?" he said with an insistent touch. He knew Laxus could have stepped back, ran away, even smacked his hand aside. He didn't! That was encouraging, so Freed stroked him up and down sensually through the clothes. "Could this have been one of your dreams, one of your fantasies as you sit in some run-down tenement watching reruns … alone … no wife, no girlfriend … or boyfriend," he noted with a smirk, letting Laxus know he knew everything, every detail of his life. "And you fantasize about the one man in your life you know you could never have. He's way above you." He squeezed the thick cock tighter through the rough fabric and licked his lips. "Aren't I?"

Laxus flinched as those elegant hands pleasured him, and that aristocratic voice taunted him with his own erotic fantasies.

"So…" Freed stood and pressed his body up against the taut muscles hidden by the tank top. "…could I make you loyal to me if I make your dreams come true?" He gave another firm thrust with his hand, palming him relentlessly while staring up at the flustered face.

"S-sir!" Laxus choked.

"It'd be easy…" He caressed the gruff jaw roughened with stiff blond stubble, and Laxus pulled his face away. "…to just give in…" His thumb caressed over Laxus' chapped lips as he gazed at that foul mouth. "…isn't it?" he whispered. He rubbed along Laxus' cheek and down his throat, making him choke up and gulp hard. "So simple to just surrender all that power, all that strength." His hand stroked along the bulky shoulders and over his pectorals. "Give it all up to someone else."

Laxus panted as one hand aroused him while the other hand petted him like a dog. He looked down at the smaller man in front of him, but he could say nothing. Freed was right. Laxus feared his strength at times; letting someone else take the reins was simply more comfortable.

"Mmm, good," Freed whispered, seeing longing in those electric blue eyes. "Quite the passive one, aren't you?"

Laxus looked aside with embarrassment. "Sir…"

"Eager, too." He stroked the cock again, feeling how it struggled against the tight pants. "Good. So, how do I…" He yanked on Laxus' belt.

"Nngh!" he grunted.

"… keep you …" He snapped open the fly and yanked the zipper down. Laxus let out a sensual cry as his cock sprang free from its confines. "…loyal?"

Freed harshly yanked on Laxus' jeans and the briefs he wore underneath, pulling the clothes down his thighs. Laxus collapsed back against the desk, panting, blushing, with one regal erection shining in the sun slanting through the window.

"Look at that," Freed whispered, admiring the penis and swiping over the hot skin with a finger. "You could rip someone bad with this. Mm, nope," he decided. "I don't think I'll be taking this."

"Wh-what?" Laxus cried out. Taking?

Green hair fell over Freed's face, and one eye glared darkly. "On the desk!"

In a swift move, he grabbed Laxus, spun him around, and slammed him down. The janitor barely had time to place his hands out and prevent his face from colliding into the polished mahogany. When he instinctively struggled, Freed grabbed his blond hair and pinned him down.

"S-sir!" he cried out.

Freed licked his finger, then nudged it against Laxus' ass. "There we go." The blond trembled at the touch, but Freed's finger slipped inside. "Relax. It's all right. Room's soundproof, anyway," he assured. His finger went in deeper, and Laxus clawed at the desk. "Easy," Freed whispered, stroking his head and holding still. Slowly, Laxus breathed through it and went limp. His hands eased out of fists, and his lower body loosened. "Good," Freed praised, honestly impressed that he had accommodated the intruding finger so quickly. "This isn't your first time, is it?"

Laxus blushed in humiliation. "Nngh, sir," he mewled, not wanting to admit to his sex life, not to this man.

"You've ever done it in an office?"

Laxus shook his head.

"In public?" he asked slyly, thrusting his finger in and out. Laxus cringed as he realized he was _in public_. "No, huh?" Freed said, smirking knowingly. "No. You're not that sort. I can tell. You like to do it in a room, locked away, lights _off_." He thrust his finger in deep, and Laxus grunted as quietly as he could manage. "Yeah. You don't like to show your face to anyone, do you? Probably worried you'll scare them with this scar here." He grabbed Laxus' chin and yanked his face up.

"Sir!" he shouted in protest.

Freed leaned over him, cheek to cheek. "I'm not scared," he whispered. "No." He rubbed over the scar running over the blue eye. Then he leaned and whispered into Laxus' ear. "But you should be scared of me."

"Mister Justine—"

His words were cut off as Freed tried to force a second finger in. Laxus tensed up in real pain, so Freed reached over with his free hand, yanked open a drawer, and pulled out some hand lotion. It would have to do. He squirted it over his fingers and Laxus' ass, then tried again. Laxus groaned as the fingers slipped in smoothly.

"There. Not so bad, is it?" Freed thrust the two fingers in, stretching Laxus out, enthralled by the trembling in his thighs. "But I do have a one o'clock appointment, so as much as I would _love_ to admire this ass even more, we'll have to make this a bit quicker."

He yanked his fingers out, and Laxus cried in both a relief to the ache and disappointment at losing that incredible feeling. Freed wiped his fingers off with a hankie and then pulled out another drawer of his desk. On the very bottom, hidden under files, was a condom wrapper. He pulled it forward and set it on the desk. Laxus' eyes widened at seeing it. Freed unzipped his suit pants, pulled out his erection, ripped open the wrapped, and rolled the condom on.

"There we go. Don't worry. I won't make a mess."

"Sir!" he shouted.

"Shh." He draped himself over Laxus' broad back and rocked his erection up against the crack of Laxus' ass. "It's all right," he whispered soothingly. Then he pulled back and asked seriously. "Isn't it?"

Laxus looked back at him. What was he asking?

Freed's face showed he was not teasing anymore. "Can I?" he requested, not making any further moves to take Laxus.

He sneered at the businessman. "If I say no?"

A disappointing question, but logical to ask it. "Then you're free to go, and you won't lose your job," he promised.

Laxus glowered, but his voice dropped softer. "And if I say yes?"

Freed smiled to see he was considering it. "You still won't lose your job. You _will_ get a pay raise…"

"I don't want your damn money," he barked.

What a fiercely proud one! It drove Freed wild. "All right. No money involved." He caressed Laxus' cheek. "But I do want it to be consensual."

Silence. Laxus could not meet his eyes, glaring down at the desk instead. Freed waited, it felt like an eternity, but without receiving permission. He pulled back, feeling awful now for being so lewd and forceful.

"I'm sorry—"

"Do it," Laxus growled.

Freed hesitated. The last thing he wanted was to actually force an employee into unwanted sex. Only the worst bosses in the world did shitty stuff like that.

"You really don't have to—"

"Do … it!" he insisted, shooting a demanding glare back at Freed. Laxus leaned over more, presenting his ass willingly.

Freed hummed in pleasure to see such obedience. He caressed his hands over Laxus' torso and down to his hips. Partly to himself, he muttered, "I knew I picked the right one."

He grabbed Laxus' sharp hips and gave a firm thrust. The blond bowed upward, shouting as he was pierced. Freed rested only a few seconds before another thrust, stronger, slamming in and forcing Laxus flat to the desk. His slender fingers dug into the man's hips, yanking him back and thrusting in until he was fully buried. Laxus scratched the varnish of the table as he moaned at being filled.

Freed rested, panting at the tightness squeezing him so deliciously. "I have but one rule."

Laxus growled over his shoulder, "What's that?"

Freed leaned down over him, placed his lips near Laxus' ear, and whispered, "Don't … come … on my desk."

Don't come? "Shit," he sneered. He hated holding back, especially with how riled up this damn rich boy had made him.

Freed slid back, watching his cock retreat from that incredible, muscular ass. He scratched along the tattoos on Laxus' back, wanting him so desperately. Months! Months of watching this man clean his window, a view of divine perfection, right there in front of him, yet out of reach, a pane of glass separating him from this Norse god. Now here he was, spread out before him, the perfect man … and all his!

He thrust in, wanting this body, this soul. Wanting to touch and claim that which had been denied him, a teasing show through his window, a view of heaven but untouchable to a mortal. He was a god in the garb of a lowly janitor.

But more than that.

Freed listened as his thrusts made Laxus moan and cry out with such a deep, powerful, rapturous voice. Freed knew he was spoiled, raised in a world of privilege. So what! When he wanted something, he got it. He used brainpower—not just money—to get what he desired. He used skill, tactics, sometimes he resorted to threats and intimidation. Whatever worked.

He knew for many months now, he wanted _this man_.

As he fucked this herculean swain, he felt such intense satisfaction that he did not have to use foul tactics or money to get him. He came willingly. Freed probably could have just knocked on the glass and said "Let's fuck" and he would have gotten what he wanted.

That willingness was the true pleasure. Knowing his partner was not here for a reward, or cowed into obedience … knowing he was giving himself purely for the pleasure of being taken my this influential CEO … him, a janitor, and yet of godlike build, and Mister Justine, one of the richest and most powerful men in the city … _that_ was what made this incredible.

It was what spurred Freed on as his hips pounded into the brawny ass.

"Slow down, sir," Laxus cried out.

"Nope," he replied, panting as he kept thrusting. "I've got an appointment … one o'clock … so we've got to be finished before then."

"Sir!" Laxus groaned.

God, he loved hearing Laxus call him _sir_! "Sorry it's a quick one today."

"S-sir!" Laxus reached a hand down, grabbing his cock and squeezing to stop himself from giving in to the relentless pleasure.

"Don't," Freed ordered as his body drew up. "Not yet." So close! "Not … yet."

A few more thrusts, pressure building, tension mounting, desperation and a loss of reality, just a need, so primal, so instinctive, so intense. He needed this man. Needed him! Needed to show him what had been building up for month, what fantasies kept him up at night, what lewd desires had filled his body, and to _fill him_ with the same. Fill him! Claim him! Share this lust.

Suddenly his body felt a snap, then an intense rush. Freed stilled, convulsed, and for a few seconds he was not some powerful businessman. He was just a man with a need. He needed Laxus!

And he had him.

Claimed him.

His!

He sank as that brief moment of bliss melted. His god. His incredible herculean lover.

Maybe not a _lover_ yet. All he did was fuck him over a desk. Still … his! It felt so satisfying to have him, right here, in his office, within his domain.

"You didn't come, did you?"

Laxus still had a hand down on his cock, barely holding back. "No, sir," he choked out, although he knew he would come soon.

"Good," he praised, stroking the blond hair now stiff with sweat.

So obedient! Freed smiled as he slipped out. Laxus moaned at the fullness going away so soon, leaving his ass twitching with aches and his body thrumming with voracious passion. Freed took a tissue and discreetly wrapped up the condom. Then he zipped his pants back up. Not a speck. Still, Laxus stayed down, trembling slightly. Such a good man, waiting patiently.

"Up!"

"What—?"

Before he could ask, Freed grabbed Laxus and practically threw him against the window. Laxus tripped on his lowered jeans and landed with his face smashed to the glass. He feared for a few seconds that the glass might shatter and he could fall thirty stories to his death. However, Laxus knew full well from his work cleaning these windows, they were shatter-proof. Even a massive blow might crack them, but they would not splinter into a million pieces. He was safe against this window, no matter how hard Freed pushed him against the pane.

Instantly, Freed was behind him and grabbed the arousal. Laxus let out a sensual moan at finally being touched, that carnal need fulfilled, and those hands … _oh God, those hands!_ He was used to his own thick fingers, roughened from manual work. Those slender hands were soft, smooth, and they touched him like silk. Laxus shivered at their caresses. He had never known a hand as gentle as this.

"Sir!" he whimpered, fearing he could not last more than a few seconds now.

"Look at that view," Freed said laconically, resting his chin on Laxus' shoulder. "Isn't it beautiful?" He glanced over and saw Laxus' face tensed up, not even looking. "Yes. It's a _commanding_ view … don't you think?" He ended with an equally commanding voice ordering him to _look_.

Slowly, Laxus obediently opened his eyes. The city sprawled out below him. Far down, he saw the bus line he took to work. The sidewalks were full of people on their lunch breaks. Cars rushed by. There was a small park where Laxus sometimes ate his lunch by a stone fountain. Overhead, he saw an airplane on its way to Magnolia Airport. Such a crowded city!

"Sir," he managed to say as his throat tensed at being smashed against the glass and forced to look out at the world.

"Especially when the windows are nice … and clean."

He rubbed the tip of Laxus cock against the cold glass, getting him to shiver from the chill. Pre-cum smeared the window and began to drip. Freed licked his lips as he saw the moist mess and how Laxus cringed, also realizing the mess he was making, and dreading the bigger mess impending.

"You can see the whole city from up here," he said, but Laxus' eyes were closed again, trying to ignore it. Nope, that would not do. Freed pressed up behind him, really shoving Laxus flush against the glass, including his cock pressed in, the skin smashed into the glass. Freed leaned into the flushed ear, and sadistically whispered, "Do you think they can all see you?"

Laxus shivered as he wondered about that. The windows were tinted, but not fully one-way. Anyone who happened to look up would definitely see him, pressed up helplessly, his cock out, the dripping mess … they would _see_.

"Sir," he choked, almost in tears, not daring to come, not like this, with the whole world able to watch him.

"But you see…" Freed pulled his hips back, giving just enough room to grab Laxus again and jerk him mercilessly.

"Ah!" he cried out, trying to hold back, but those silky hands were quickly defeating him.

"…for how nice and clean the outside window is, the inside … well, they just get dirty so quickly."

Laxus cringed as more pre-cum leaked and Freed rubbed the dripping cock against the window again, drawing wet circles over the chilly glass.

"I need someone to wash them. Wash the inside and the outside, so I can enjoy my view."

"Sir … sir, I … nnngh … going…"

Freed felt wetness on his hand and saw the drips down the window. Such a messy cock, probably denied release for a long time. The sweat on Laxus' forehead smeared the window, and his clawing hands left fingerprints all over the pristine glass. It was a glorious mess.

"You made this window rather dirty, didn't you?" he admonished. "Oh well. You'll just have to wash it."

"Sir … but … I'm—"

"It's all right," he said soothingly, keeping his stroking wrist even and swift. "The window's dirty anyway."

Laxus shook his head, straining not to come, not here, not against the window facing the whole world.

"Just look at that view," Freed sighed, savoring the struggle. "Yes … and just think: they can see you."

Laxus stubbornly shook his head. "Sir! Mr. Justine, please!"

Damn, he loved hearing Laxus call him _Mister Justine._ He kissed the shell of his ear and nipped the bright pink earlobe.

"Come on," Freed urged, knowing how close Laxus was by the shivering of his body.

Laxus shook his head again. "Please!" He wanted to hold back, wanted it anywhere but here. Such humility, such depravity … but such dominance! Such boldness!

Freed licked up the side of his neck, and Laxus gasped. His weak spot! It sent a chill down his spine. He lost his concentration, and with it he cracked. He felt the pleasure surge through him, and he could not stop it, not anymore.

Freed felt the surge in his hand and looked down as milky white splashed onto his office window. It was so thick, and so much, spurt after spurt, until it dripped all the way to the carpet. Thick creaminess smeared the glass, and he heard a moan of pleasure from Laxus.

"Good. Very good," he praised. Laxus sank and trembled with humiliation, but Freed stroked his head and kissed the side of his neck again. "Very good," he whispered tenderly.

Laxus looked around, eyelashes wet, but a smile struggling on his lips. "Sir?"

"It's all right," he assured, stroking his hair with a gentle, pleased smile. He rested his forehead against the sweat-drenched brow, proud of his brute. He heard a sigh of silent satisfaction, and it made Freed feel intense warmth inside.

However, a piercing buzz interrupted the moment. Laki's voice came over a speaker. "Sir, your one o'clock is here."

"Perfect timing," he sighed, glad yet slightly suspicious on precisely _how_ Laki knew they were done now. He stepped back and got a tissue to clean Laxus. As he diligently wiped up the drooping, spent cock, he saw the smears all over the glass. "Oh, this window really does need to be cleaned," he muttered. Meeting clients with sweaty handprints and cum all over the window was simply out of the question. He threw away the tissue and squirted some disinfectant gel onto his hands. "Stay in here," Freed ordered. "Clean it."

Laxus weakly yanked his pants back up, tucked himself away, and pulled on his belt. "Where … where are you going, sir?" he asked, still trying to catch his breath after such an exhausting struggle.

"Well, I have some clients to meet," he stated, as if it was obvious. "They're very important, so make sure this window is spotless."

Damn rich boy! Still, Laxus did not really mind. It was his mess, and he had definitely enjoyed it. "I'll clean it, sir."

"Good. Oh, and … stay around," he mused, smiling with intrigue. "Go get yourself a cup of coffee, and once I'm done, let's talk about your future in this company." He walked back up to Laxus and caressed his rough jaw. "I think your future is looking _very _promising." He grinned, then spun around, waving as he walked off. "Toodle-lo!"

Laxus frowned at being left so quickly after such an intimate moment. It was not the way he liked sex to end, simply dismissed and ordered to go back to his job of cleaning. "Mister Justine?" he called out.

Freed stopped by the office door and looked back around. "Yes?"

"I … that is…" He folded his arms in a surly posture and grumbled, "I wouldn't mind … doing this again."

Such pride! It tingled Freed's heart. "I'm glad."

He began to reach for the doorknob, but his hand slowly drew back. He also did not like ending it like this. It wasn't right! He turned around and walked back. Laxus already had his window washing bottle and a rag out. Freed yanked them out of his hands, threw them to the floor, and grabbed Laxus to him by his belt loops.

"Wh-what?" he cried out in shock.

"Shhh." Freed tiptoed up and kissed him, just a peck on the lips. He felt Laxus stiffen, stunned by the romantic move, and when he pulled back, those blue eyes were massive in surprise. "You're a good man, and I do believe you'll be loyal now."

Laxus scoffed and rolled his eyes. However, he answered, "Yes, sir."

"Good." He tapped Laxus on the nose and pulled back. "I like my employees to be happy." He began to walk to the door again.

"So am I just another one of your _employees_?" Laxus called out, scowling.

Freed froze and spun back around. "Oh, don't get me wrong." What a clingy man! Yet Freed liked that. "You've made my view of this world … _enjoyable_. Better than it's ever been."

Laxus still had a sour face, and Freed dared not leave with him looking so upset. They faced one another until finally Laxus built up the courage to say more. "May I ask something personal, sir?"

He arched an eyebrow. "All right."

Laxus glared down as he asked, "How many men have you fucked over this desk?"

Freed laughed softly. Jealous already? How endearing! "None."

"Women?"

"Definitely none!" he snapped, slightly affronted by the question.

"Just me?"

Freed sighed, walked back up to him, and cupped his cheeks with both hands, forcing his eyes back over. Such intense blue! He could lose himself for eternity in those empyrean eyes.

"Only you," he swore. He leaned into his comforting chest and listened to the beating heart. "Only you, Laxus."

He felt a hand on his head, and he looked up, hoping Laxus believed him. By the tender smile, he did. Freed sighed in relief. His tip-toed up, and they kissed, so gently, so uncertainly. However, when they pulled back, both knew this was not enough. Laxus wrapped his arms around Freed's lithe body. He leaned over so Freed could rest flat on his feet, and their kiss lingered.

Freed's hands roamed up the broad back to the short blond hair, ruffling through it, before clutching at his hair and pulling him down closer, thrusting his tongue in. God, what a taste! He hummed, wondering if he would ever not be amazed by this godlike being of perfection.

Freed leaned back, running both hands over the broad shoulders, panting, knowing he wanted more, so much more.

Freed shoved Laxus backward, down to the desk again. Laxus was forced to sit on the mahogany top, and Freed sidled up between his thighs. Laxus grabbed Freed's ass and pulled him in. Now, they were the perfect even height. They kissed, faces almost level with one another. Damn, what a kisser!

Then Laxus' arms yanked him in, moaning "Mister Justine." Freed crash up against him until they both leaned back, making out on top of the desk. Wet, sloppy kisses, blind groping, a new want, a new craving, not sexual like before, but deeper. Freed wanted to kiss this man until all the month of passion could be conveyed in a single day.

There was another buzz, and Laki's voice was stricter. "Mister Justine, your appointment."

He hummed in annoyance and muttered between kisses, "Delay them five minutes."

Laki obviously heard the amatory hums, and she said knowingly, "Understood, sir."

Freed kept kissing Laxus, clinging to him, never wanting to leave this happiness.

"You should go see them," Laxus said right over those insistent lips.

"Mmh … I will," he muttered, kissing, nipping, not stopping. "…later." His hands clutched Laxus' firm jaws and he kissed him all over while those powerful arms held him so desperately. "Mmm … only you," he swore.

* * *

The dream faded as the sun peeked through the bedroom curtains. Freed opened his eyes and knew already … he needed to clean the sheets.

Later.

He did not even mind, not when the dream that made the mess was so incredible!

"Mmh, what a good dream!" he hummed, stretching out his shoulders. He saw the sunlight gleam on his promise ring and held it out, admiring the token of affection. "Laxus…" he sighed wistfully, missing him. The bed felt so empty without his love beside him.

However, the dream fluttered in his chest, shoving aside all doubts and depression, filling Freed with the warmth of affections. With such an amazing future ahead of him, the present loneliness was drowned.

And what a future!

"Someday," he said with a smug chuckle.

He loved the idea, fucking Laxus in his father's office and making him come against the window, like how Laxus had pressed him up against the window to watch the sunrise the morning after their first time together. And to scratch up his father's desk with Laxus' desperate clawing … damn! To take Laxus, claim him, order him around, right there in the office where he would rule a vast corporate empire one day. It was definitely one of his favorite fantasies.

He sighed to himself. That future felt so far away. Still… "Someday."

He slowly peeled back the blanket and saw the moistness. He had slept naked just like Laxus ordered, so it was everywhere. So messy! He wondered what Laxus would say if something like this ever happened when they were sleeping together. Probably, he would punish Freed for taking pleasure with his dream-self and not with him directly.

Yes, punished good!

Or what if Laxus woke up one morning, cursing at his own mess? It had not happened yet, but it could. Freed would definitely tease him about it, humiliate him, make him regret wasting an orgasm on some dream and not having it with him. Mmm … and Laxus would blush in shame. He would make it up to Freed. Maybe apologize by sucking him off, right there, morning sunlight slanting in, before they even left the bed.

He blushed at the idea. God, he missed Laxus already!

He rose out of bed and began to bundle up the ruined sheets to wash them before they dried and stained the satin. On his way to the washing machine, he passed a picture of him and Laxus hanging on the wall.

"I wonder what you're up to today," he asked the photo.

He gave the picture a light kiss before walking on. Laundry, a shower, breakfast, and he needed to text Laxus at eight o'clock to make sure he was awake. Then it was another day slaving in the office. Damn, that dream was going to haunt him, he just knew it!

At least it would not cause an issue that could get embarrassing. Laxus had ordered him to wear the chastity belt. His cock would be caged, unable to rise. Maybe Laxus had ordered that on purpose, knowing Freed too well, knowing he would keep thinking about Laxus, wanting him, desperate for him. The cock cage would keep him tamed. He would wear it until Laxus returned, no matter how long it took.

Hopefully, not long.

**Next Chapter: "The Bowels of Hell"**


	45. The Bowels of Hell

_Warning: Contains violence, blood, and torture._

_I did some fun things with the audio, included (dun-dun-duuuuuun) __**sound effects!**__ More than just me slapping my thigh or accidentally breaking glass.  
Audio: chirb =dot= it/yFPIf5_

* * *

Chapter 45

**The Bowels of Hell**

Laxus plodded down a dark staircase with a bare light bulb flickering overhead. Each step groaned under his weight as he descended the treacherous stairs to a basement.

'_Like entering the bowels of Hell_,' he thought to himself, focused on a steel door at the bottom of the murky, creaking shaft.

He passed through the thick door and sealed it shut. Then slowly, eyes adjusting to the dimness, he looked across the hellhole, glaring in disgust.

"Did you have sweet dreams … son?"

He hated this man, hated him with every fiber of his being. Laxus was thankful for one thing. He looked _nothing_ like his father. It was not like looking in a mirror and dreading that this was what he would be in thirty years. This man with black hair, dark eyes, and mocha-colored skin … Laxus would _never_ look like him. He would never _act_ like him, either. Ever!

That is, except in this moment, when he hurt his own flesh and blood.

Ivan Dreyar still had a scab on his lip and flakes of blood on the corner of his mouth from the struggle to capture him yesterday. Despite that, he stood defiantly, chained to a wall with cuffs around his wrists and ankles keeping him spread. He had urinated himself in the night, but that bit of humiliation did not lessen the defiance in his face.

"Did you call up that little boyfriend of yours this morning?" Ivan asked mockingly. "Did you say sweet things and wish him a good day at work before heading down _here_ … to dirty your hands with blood? I still can't believe it, though," he said with sardonic amusement. "Somehow, fate mocked me and gave me a son who's a fag."

Laxus punched him in the gut, making Ivan double over as far as his bonds allowed.

"You have no right to say who I should love," Laxus sneered. "You showed me no love at all."

Ivan tried to straighten up, although he still cringed from the hit. Still, he grinned vilely. "I wonder what lies you're feeding him. What did you tell him you're doing? A business trip, maybe?" He scoffed and wondered, "What sort of business would an idiot son like you do, anyway? I wonder what he'll think of you once he realizes his _lover_ lied. He'll probably hate you. He'll never want you in his ass again."

Laxus backhanded him, making the corner of Ivan's mouth reopen and bleed. "Shut the fuck up. You don't know Freed. He'll probably cry, but he's good at forgiving. Besides," Laxus muttered, "he'll never know. I don't plan on telling him a thing."

"Oh?" Ivan asked in a mocking tone. He spit out a stream of blood. "How long did you say you'd be gone? A few days? A few months? You probably want to kill me, and I confess, I'm totally at your mercy. I can't break free. Believe me, I tried." He wiggled his hands, with blood streaking down the arms where he had struggled so hard against the metal cuffs, he sliced up his wrists. "You could have killed me yesterday, but you didn't. You're going to drag this out. I know I would!" he said with a cruel smirk. "You're not that much different from me after all."

Laxus aimed his knee up into Ivan's torso, breaking a few ribs. The man screamed and cursed in pain, but he still glared defiantly.

"So, how long do I put up with it?" he grunted through the agony. "What'd you tell your fag lover? Three days? A week? How long are you going to make him suffer just so you can indulge that sadistic side you inherited?"

"I didn't inherit _anything_ from you, bastard," Laxus growled. "Didn't inherit your looks, your personality, didn't even inherit money, and I sure as hell didn't inherit being a sadist. That was something you forced me into, just like you forced your damned medications and surgeries on me. Do you remember that, _Dad_? Subject number 4-6-2. I'll never forget it, and I'll never forgive you for it. So long as that number is etched into my skin, I'll never forget or forgive. Ever! I could torture you for a year and it wouldn't do justice to what I will have to live with for the rest of my life. It will never erase the years of being an outcast, no one wanting me around because of the scars and being so freakishly massive. Nothing at all will erase the shit I put up with to train myself for this moment."

He walked over to a table where he had laid out items of torture. Some were simple things he bought at a sex shop. Used sensually, they were pleasurable, but those same items could seriously harm a person. A few, he bought online at medical supply sites and military surplus stores. A couple he had to get through the Deep Web, illegal items of gruesome torture that would never be allowed in this country.

"I doubt you'll spend a year, though," Ivan said, watching him suspiciously. "You'll be eager to fuck your little boy toy in a week."

"I plan to go back to him tonight," Laxus said softly, still deciding what item to use.

"So it'll be a quick death? That's reassuring to know. Disappointing, too."

"Quick?" Laxus chuckled and glared over his shoulder at the man. "I'm not making this quick at all. You're gonna fucking _rot_ in here. You see," he said, picking up a simple police baton and tapping it on his hand as he strode back, "Freed's rich as fuck. If I stop working," he said, tapping the baton more, tested the weight, "he'd honestly never know there was a drop in income. I could ask him for a bit of cash, saying I want to buy him a present that I can't afford, and he would be an eager puppy to give me whatever I want. He goes off and does his corporate rat race, and I'll come here. I could have a nine-to-five job, just tormenting you, every day, for as long as I want."

"You'd be lying to him."

"I'd be sparing him and giving him a perfect alibi. If he knew, he could be charged as an accomplice, guilty simply by not reporting me to the police, but if he never knows—" Laxus smacked the baton over Ivan's face, letting the fleshy crack ring through the dim basement. "—what he doesn't know can't get him arrested. It's my way of protecting him."

Ivan glared as one eye began to swell up. "You plan on keeping me alive down here that long? I'd rather starve to death."

Laxus bashed the baton into Ivan's hip, making his body go limp on one side. "You won't starve, and you won't die of thirst. I've got enough medical equipment stored away to make sure you live until I _allow_ you to die. If you threaten to bite your tongue, I'll simply cut it off for you and cauterize it." He used the tip of the baton to lift Ivan's chin. "I'm keeping you alive until I'm fully sated. Once you no longer amuse me, I'll simply burn you alive. Your death won't even be fast. Trust me, I have experience in fire play. I know how to make flesh burn a long, long time."

Ivan sneered as he spat out, "You're a sick son of a whore."

Laxus whacked the baton across Ivan's face again, then slammed the butt end into his sternum, making him howl in pain. "Don't you ever talk about my mother that way."

"Or what?" Ivan snarled, panting in pain.

"You think this hurts?" Laxus asked coldly. "This is just bruising. I'll show you _real_ pain."

Laxus threw the bloodied baton aside, marched back to the table, and returned with massive shears. He sliced off Ivan's clothes, cutting through the fabric and letting the shreds fall to the ground.

"Pissed yourself. Soiled yourself. Disgusting fucker. You're going to forget what being clothed even feels like. You'll shiver in your own nakedness. Summer and winter don't matter down here. The temperature is regulated. I can leave you sweltering until you pass out, or leave you just on the brink of hypothermia. Down here," he declared stepping back as the last shred of cloth fell from his father's body, "I am Thor, a god, and you are a mere mortal."

"You're delusional!" he hissed.

He leaned in close. "And I have _you_ to thank for that." He took a step back and stretched as if bored. "I don't know much about you, though. Here you are, my own father, the man who donated half my chromosomes, and I seriously know nothing about you. I don't know how you met my mother or how the _fuck_ you convinced her to marry you; I don't know what you majored in during school, or what precisely you did for work. I know nothing about you, _Dad_. So I'm going to see what sort of man you are. What are your limits? Where are your weak points? What are your fears? After all," he mocked cruelly, "we have _so much_ to catch up on."

He grabbed up a bag of clothespins. He began along the raised arm, pinching the clothespins along the common weak points. Ivan tensed up at a few on the under side of his upper arm, but the pins pinched his flesh without satisfactory reactions.

"Strong arms," Laxus said, amused but also disappointed. He dropped to a knee. "Let's see how your legs fair."

"You … _nnngh_ … really seem to know what you're doing," Ivan noted. "Don't tell me you work as some sort of _professional_."

Laxus raised his eyes in a hateful glare but only scoffed. He returned to pinching the clamps onto Ivan's feet, toes, knees, inner thighs, then stood and began testing spots on his throat, face, and shoulders. The man must be able to withstand an insane amount of pain.

"Is that it?" he mocked, breathing hard but not giving in. "You became a male prostitute, eh? Shit, I really picked the worst bitch in the world to raise my progeny."

Laxus skipped the lesser locations and aimed a clothespin right on Ivan's nipple. "I said you _never_ speak about my mother that way." He pulled out another clothespin and clamped it hard on the other side of his chest, getting a tensed groan but nothing more. "That woman was a saint, and you … you're a goddamn fucker. That's all! You fucked her, and you fucked up my life. You're only good at fucking shit up."

"Says the prostitute fucking some rich piece of ass now," Ivan sneered back. "Save yourself the decades of therapy and kill me so you can go back to your sugar daddy and suck his gold-plated cock."

Laxus trembled in rage. "Go to hell," he whispered direly.

"You're gonna hurt him bad one day, y'know. That's how it starts. You think it's all okay, you think you're not doing anything wrong, and slowly it gets worse."

"Shut up," Laxus barked. "I'd never hurt him."

"Oh, you will!" he said smugly. "One day, it won't be enough. You'll do more, push limits further, and he'll put up with it. He won't say anything … out of love. Your mother never said anything to me, even when there was blood all over the bed."

In outrage, Laxus grabbed another clothespin and clamped it onto the loose skin of Ivan's ball sack. Finally, he got a howl of agony.

"Is this what it takes to get to you, fucker?" he snarled. He yanked another clamp out of the large bag and pinched the other ball. Ivan's entire body stiffened and his screams hitched in agony. "You're a tough bastard, I'll grant you that, but you're wrong. I would never hurt Freed in a way he doesn't want."

"Don't … _nngh_ … don't you get it? He _will_ want it. Because it's you, he'll put up with it."

"He speaks up."

Ivan laughed through the pain and shook his head. "Trust me, he'll indulge you until one day you push him too far. Things will turn out so badly, you can't even look at one another without shame and guilt. In that moment," he said with fierce eyes, "you'll remember this. You'll remember _me_. You'll realize you only like to hurt him because you always wanted to hurt me," he said with a cruel laugh, "and now that I'm not around, he will take my place. You'll crave the thrill, the pain, the blood. You'll _crave_ it, and he'll oblige and keep going along thinking you love him. In reality, you've replaced me with him. That's all it is. He … is … me." He laughed as Laxus' eyes widened in horror. "The moment you realize that, my stupid son, you'll never be able to fuck his asshole again, because it's no different than sticking that cock up into your own father."

"Oh, my cock won't be going up into you. You see, I may have had rich fuckers pay me for services, but I never once fucked a client." That was how this had to be. Like his past clients, nothing more. No emotion, no attachment. Just pain. He walked to the table and brought forth a glass tube-like dildo plugged in with a chord. When he turned it on, violet electricity filled the inside.

"Every item you use on me, you'll never be able to use it on him again, not without remembering me," Ivan warned.

"Then I'd rather give up BDSM altogether."

Ivan cackled at that declaration. "Give it up? You truly are stupid. That's what he likes, right? He craves the way you thrill him. If you give it up, he'll give up on you."

"No, he won't! Freed loves me. He would never dump me just because—"

"Because you can no longer live up to his expectations and personal needs?" he screamed. Ivan shook his head with a smirk. "Oh, he'll definitely leave you for something like that. Would you two even have hooked up if it weren't for sadomasochistic play? Would he have wanted you _at all_ if you didn't _thrill_ him?" He laughed mockingly. "He'll crave that high, and if he doesn't get it from you, he'll simply find someone else, maybe hire some other dom to satisfy his needs."

Laxus froze, thinking about Llewellyn and how his marriage to Liberty began to crumble as soon as he began to need pain, and she could not dole it out.

"He may even insist he's fine, but like you said, he's rich. He could hire a professional and get his fulfillment without you knowing. I seriously doubt you would notice a dip in his bank funds."

"Shut up! He wouldn't. He … Freed, he … he's loyal. He'd _never_—"

"I bet he's never been tested," Ivan cut in. "Have you ever gone away for a long time? Did he flirt while you were gone and he couldn't get his ass worked out?"

Laxus scowled. He remembered Loke teasing about some guy, the rich asshole with a vodka gimlet drink. Rufus, was it? He had flirted with Freed, and the two did actually go out drinking together. Could that have been considered a date? If Laxus had been gone even longer and that asshat kept pressuring Freed, how long would it have taken before he gave in? How long before his needs won over? Just how loyal would Freed be if torturing Ivan changed Laxus permanently?

"Before that happens," he muttered, "I'll kill you. I won't let you come in the way of my relationship with him."

Ivan grinned vilely. "Get in the way? Oh, no! No, not at all, my idiot son. You _owe me_ a bit of gratitude." He smiled at the hate filling Laxus' blue eyes and continued to explain. "If it weren't for your lust to torture me, you never would have sought out how to hurt others, right? You said you didn't inherit being a sadist from me, and you're absolutely right. I _created_ Laxus the Sadist. I _created_ the opportunity for you to meet your sugar daddy and fuck his rich ass. You owe me for giving you the chance to marry rich and live well, because if I hadn't fucked with your mind, you'd still be some bashful, wimpy, under-developed scarecrow of a loser, too stupid to get into university, too weak to work manual labor or a job with the military, probably working as a janitor in whatever corporation your boy toy's family owns." He enunciated with a fiendish grin, "You … are with him … because … of me!"

Ivan tipped his head back, bellowing laughter and snide remarks at Laxus while the blond stared forward in stupefied repulsion.

He met Freed … because he was a sadist.

He was a sadist … because of his father.

He and Freed were together … because of … his father?

"I hate you," he snarled, shaking in fury.

"Then torture me," Ivan mocked. "Torture me, and realize you're becoming the man I am. With each blow you give to either myself or to him, you and I are becoming more and more like father and son."

"Fuck you!"

Laxus lunged forward and rammed the violet wand's dildo attachment right up Ivan's ass, ripping him. As blood ran down the tube and Ivan shrieked, tears of hatred dripped from Laxus' face.

"You can go to hell!"

He turned on the wand, purple glowed through the dim basement, and bolts of electricity pierced straight up inside of Ivan.

"Oh God! Harder, daddy!"

Laxus froze and stared in confusion. Wait, did his dad just call him … what … wait, what the fuck?

"More," Ivan snarled. "Come on, if you're really my flesh-and-blood, you'll do it properly. That couldn't be more than … _nngh_ … ten thousand volts, and those big boys go up to fifty. Give it to me harder!"

"What the fuck!" Laxus shouted, drawing back in horror and simply leaving the wand embedded inside.

"Don't stop, daddy."

"Shut up! Shut … oh, fuck this. No! Hell no! You … you're … a _fucking masochist_?" he shouted in horror. "God-fucking-dammit! You can't even let me have this much? You can't even let me have the satisfaction of torturing you. Wow." He laughed at the insanity of it. "Just … wow. Fuck my life. Fuck it all!"

Ivan squirmed against the wrist restraints. "Don't stop yet. Your mother was a way better sadist than you."

Laxus covered his ears and turned away. "God, I don't _even_ want to know!"

"I met her at a strip club. She was one nasty piece of trailer trash ass, but _damn_, could she flog me!"

Laxus shook his head. His mother … no! She was beautiful and loving, not … not a stripper. Not a dominatrix. And his father was a client? No way!

"You're right," Ivan chuckled. "You didn't inherit being a sadist from me. I'm the exact opposite. I didn't even want the bitch as anything more than a whore to whip me and ride my cock, but my father forced me to marry her after he realized she gave birth to his bastard grandson."

"What?" sneered Laxus.

"It was useless, though," he said with a shrug to his shoulders. "She was a whore; it was always about the sex between us."

"Eww, no! I don't wanna know."

"But I wanted it harder, more than she could deliver with those tiny, bulimic arms. When she couldn't at least please me in the bedroom, I lost interest, just as your boy toy will lose interest in you. Still, no domme could do it hard enough for me. That's why I was experimenting on _you_, the brat she accidentally gave birth to despite condoms and the Pill. I had hoped that if I could make you stronger, I could make her stronger, strong enough to beat my ass properly."

"Shut up!"

"She's gone, so you'll take her place. So hit me good and hard, daddy," he moaned.

"Don't you fucking call me daddy!"

"Well, I used to call her Mama, but I figured that would be rather rude. Too bad she didn't give birth to a daughter."

Laxus kicked the table, sending the devices he had set up scattering over the basement floor. "Fuck this. Fuck it. You are going to stay down here until you die of thirst and hunger. I don't even fucking care anymore."

"Then grant me one last request and crank this violet wand to fifty. Let me die feeling it burn my ass."

In a final burst of frustration and anger, Laxus cranked the wand to the maximum. The crackling of electricity echoed in small booms throughout the room. Ivan moaned as the sparks filled him.

"Thor, my god!"

"Oh fuck, no!"

"Only you."

"NO!" He covered his ears and tried to run away.

"Don't leave me, daddy. Oh God, you're gonna make me come. So good, daddy."

"Shut up. Just shut up!"

Ivan's laugh echoed in his head. "You will _never_ be able to do anything with him without remembering me. You're a sadist because of me. My perfect creation. Four-Six-Two. Four-Six-Two. _Four-Six-Two!_"

* * *

Laxus bolted up, sweating and panting. It was still dark, and the room had the sterile odor of a hotel. He leaped out of bed, ran across the room to the toilet, and threw up the five beers and three tequila shots he drank to knock himself out. As he sat propped up by the shower door, leaning against the toilet and swallowing down his stomach, the nightmare played through his head.

"Fuck, what even _was_ that?" he wondered. "That was … Damn! The worst dream ever. The worst!"

He rinsed out his mouth and looked in the mirror at his blanched face. He reached behind him and felt the etching in his skin, covered by a tattoo now, but even Freed had noticed it once. 4-6-2.

How much of that dream were real facts he forgot? Maybe as a toddler, he had overheard that his mother was a stripper, but it made no sense to him at the time. Or was it just all a figment of his drunken imagination?

Was it a warning?

_You're a sadist because of me. My perfect creation._

At least part of that was true. He turned to sadism as a legal way to experiment with techniques to torture his father. If he had never had that bloody goal, would he have ever met Freed?

"This is fucked up," he muttered, dragging his hands over his sweaty face. "Now I don't even _want_ to sleep. Shit. I'm never drinking tequila again."

Laxus jumped into the shower, cranking it to be as cold as he could withstand. Still, the dream lingered, horrific and disgusting. While the mental image of his naked father taking pleasure in his sadism was stomach-churning, what truly bothered Laxus were the taunts.

If he fulfilled his quest of revenge, would he even want sadistic play anymore? Would he be able to do it at all? Would any act remind him of the violence against his father and make him sick? Would Freed leave him if he could not meet his needs?

Was what he did to Freed only what he wanted to do to his father?

Had Freed subconsciously replaced his father?

_Fuck this shit!_

Still, he stared as the water dripped over his face and questioned just why he and Freed were together. What kept them together? What might rip them apart? Was his whole life based on revenge? Was his relationship with Freed an outlet for that aggression?

Would he truly hurt Freed one day?

Laxus closed his eyes and rubbed out his head.

He really wanted Freed to hold him right now and promise him it would all be okay. He needed to hear that soothing voice and feel those strong yet slender arms. He needed Freed's kisses and whispered words of tenderness.

"Dammit, Freed, I need you!"

**Next Chapter: "Sadistic Orders"**

* * *

_A/N: I totally and thoroughly blame Sass-queen-justine for this idea. Last chapter, too. I did not plan for it, but as soon as she said it, I just HAD TO.  
_

_sass-queen-justine =dot= tumblr =dot= com/post/141579613092/_


	46. Sadistic Orders

_Audio: chirb. it/5DcLOF_

_(No sound effects besides my phone buzzing and beeping, but the scratching was real. I have welts on my arm now … mmm!)_

* * *

Chapter 46

**Sadistic Orders**

Freed had felt sensually on edge all day. Wearing the chastity belt to work made him constantly aware of his penis. When he had to use the toilet, he hid in a stall so no one could see the golden cage. After sending Laxus the dick pic, it took him almost half an hour for the embarrassment to cool off from his cheeks.

And then … he got called in to see his father.

He stood before Llewellyn, heart hammering, wondering if somehow his father _knew_. Was it obviously? Did it show? Had someone somehow _seen_ it? A security video, maybe?

"Ah, Freed!" the CEO grinned, waving for him to take a seat in front of the desk.

As Freed walked over the carpet, he remembered the erotic dream of the window washer. He looked at the mahogany desk and recalled where Laxus had scratched it up. Merely thinking about it made his cock fill the cage. He was glad it would not allow him to get fully erect. He sat in one of two chairs in front of the desk and faced his father with a stiff, straight back.

"Do you remember a few months ago when I asked you to pose for some publicity shots?"

Freed yanked himself out of memories of that fantasy. "Ah, yes. Something about a local ezine article on the future of modern businessmen. It was focused on university business majors in their final year."

"Yes, well…"

Llewellyn pulled out a magazine and placed it on the desk, giving it a shove toward his son with a proud expression. Freed pulled it closer and pick the magazine up to view it. On the glossy cover was his own proud face, hair shading one eye while the other gleamed shrewdly, arms folded in a bold and defiant pose the photographer had worked him into. He looked good, he had to admit.

Then he saw the title.

"Fiore Business Magazine?" he cried out. He was _on the cover_ of the biggest business magazine in the country! "I thought it was some local group."

"Originally, yes, but FBM came to me a couple of weeks ago. They saw the ezine article about you and the upcoming generation of business leaders, and they wanted to feature the Justine Corporation as a model for family businesses. I recommended that they purchase some of the photographers shots, as they were far too good for some local online publishing group. It's quite a splendid write-up. It hasn't even hit shelves, and already we're getting many calls from admirers."

Freed groaned in annoyance. Just what he needed, more flighty women pestering him! "How could they write an article about me without _asking_ me?"

"The article is more about the company and quotes some of your university thesis. No direct quotes from you, obviously, although I did get a statement in."

"If I was going to be featured in something like this, I should have been warned."

"You agreed to the photo shoot."

"For a small ezine. Not for _this_," he shouted, slapping at the magazine. "Father, I know you probably meant well, but this is _national coverage_."

"Exactly! The sort of publicity our company needs."

"But it's _my face_ on the cover. I should have been asked!" Freed turned away, running his fingers through his hair and sending those unruly cowlicks spiking up in frustration. "I was fine if it was an article about the academic life of business majors," he said, trying to be calmer. However, he slammed his finger down at the glossy cover and shouted at the magnate, "I didn't give consent to _this_."

Llewellyn arched an eyebrow. "Give consent?" he spat. "This isn't sex, Freed. This is business and an opportunity for national exposure for the Justine Corporation. I had to leap on this as soon as possible."

"Then you could have _warned_ me."

He made a face, realizing his son was right, but simply stated, "It slipped my mind."

"What?" he screamed.

"Calm down," Llewellyn shouted back, yet he regained his own equanimity almost instantly. "It'll be fine," he assured smoothly. "I've already set up a secretary to take calls for you and schedule any television interviews. It won't interfere with your work."

"What about interfering with my _life_?" he shouted.

Llewellyn's proud gaze turned cold. "This company should be a larger part of your life than anything else besides family. Remember that!"

"What about being more important than _love_?"

Llewellyn lifted his chin slightly. "Are you worried that _Laxus_ will disapprove?" he asked with a slight sneer. "Son, I accept that he's your boyfriend, and while I do think it would be a grave mistake for the public to learn of your relationship with someone as … _questionably moral_ as him, I still accept it. For now."

Freed's teeth clenched at that.

"However, any person you take as a lover, no matter their gender or social standing, has to realize that you are the life-blood of the Justine Corporation. If you read the article, you will see what I mean. You are our future, my son. Maybe you think it's unfair, but a lot of people are resting their hopes in _you_. You will be expected to make appearances a lot more as this corporation grows. You'll be doing more interviews, and sometimes you won't get a warning that something big is about to happen. You have to adjust, be flexible, and continue smiling for the world's flashing cameras. You are the face of our future." His stern gaze softened, and Llewellyn smiled at his son. "I'm grateful you have your mother's looks. They serve you well."

"It's the same as before," he snarled, looking anything but angelic now. "All those parties, dragging me around, showing me off, '_Oh what a pretty son you have!_' Nothing has changed. I'm just a pretty face."

"A bold and strong visage, but you are far more than that. I wouldn't put this much trust in you, this much public exposure onto you, unless I was 110% confident that you can handle this. People look at you and instantly trust you. They want to follow you. You live up to expectations—"

"I barely meet your approval!" Freed shouted.

Llewellyn paused. "I'm sorry if it comes across that way. I know I can be harsh and demanding, but you honestly impress me. I expect so much out of you because, in you, I see a better man than myself, better than my father who started this business." He smiled paternally. "I have full confidence in your leadership skills, Freed."

His mouth dropped slightly. "Y-you do?"

He nodded with an amiable gleam in his eyes. "I wish you had as much confidence in yourself. It's something you lack, and I don't know how to show you that you are a natural leader besides giving you tasks that require that skill. Perhaps it's so natural to you, you honestly don't see it, but others do!"

As nice as it was to hear that, Freed still shook his head in protest. "Just yesterday, you said I was working too slow."

"You do push time limits, but you have never been late. It's a tiny flaw, Freed, but I figured it'd be best to nip that habit in the bud before it becomes ingrained. Macao chastised me for it," he chuckled. "He says I expect perfection out of you, and perhaps he's right, because what I see in front of me is a man who is a diamond, already cut and polished, but it could always use a slightly different cut, slightly more refinement. You're the Cullinan Diamond of this company."

"The Cullinan was broken!"

"Exactly. I am one part, you are the other. A chip off the old block, as they say," he said jovially. "My father would have been the whole Cullinan; I'm the Cullinan I, symbol of the head of state; you're the Cullinan II. Do you know where the Cullinan II Diamond is located?"

Freed had learned about this in a history class. "The Imperial State Crown, worn by the British monarch."

Llewellyn nodded proudly at his knowledge. "You are the crown, the royal jewel everyone sees first. Your voice has the command of the Justines, but your face is as pure as a diamond, angelic like your mother. Yes, people will judge you by that that face. They will judge _all of us_ by how you comport yourself. That's part of the job. If you're going to be CEO one day, you have to get used to it, and any significant other you have will have to accept that you are a public figure."

"But I don't _like_ to be—"

"Publicity is a key to business," Llewellyn shouted over him. "Get used to it, or get out."

Freed stiffened at such a sudden ultimatum. Was his father serious?

"I, of all people, should not be telling you this. I've done plenty in the past that put my public self in danger. I probably haven't learned," he confessed. "I hope _you_ will, and I don't want to see you make the same mistakes I did. Your mother had to do a lot to cover up my slips over the years. I've already had to do a bit of _cleaning up_ after you."

Freed felt his chest clench and his limbs go numb. "Wh-what … what sort of … _cleaning up_?"

The BDSM exhibition came to mind. He had been naked and on display, paddled in front of hundreds. Yes, he knew it was a risk, and although they used a mask to obscure his facial features, someone could have noticed him despite that, just as he had noticed Rufus Lore.

What if Rufus really had recognized him as well?

What if he had tried to blackmail the Justines?

What if…?

"I received a phone call a few days ago from Senator Mard Geer."

The squeeze in his chest loosened. Mard Geer?

"He said he met you and Laxus at a show in the opera house."

"Yes," Freed admitted, still hesitant. "Why would he bring that up?" Mard wasn't a past client as well, was he? Laxus had not said anything about it.

"He merely thought to put in a call and ask if I was aware that my son is gay."

"So?" Freed asked, still on edge but starting to realize the fetish club had nothing to do with this.

"It's fortunate the Senator doesn't know _who_ Laxus is. When I hired a stripper named Thor, no matter how discreet it was, it put a great risk on our family's reputation. You openly dating Laxus holds a far greater risk, and eventually someone will realize just who he is. There are ways to counterbalance that. For one, please ask Laxus to list as many former clients as he can recall. I can make sure those people are not invited to dinners at our house and seek some guarantee that they will not say anything to the media."

"You're going to _bribe_ them," Freed sneered.

"Only if necessary. I'm fairly certain these men will not want a public scandal anyway. We can simply _make certain_ they do not attempt to disgrace us."

"Father!" he shouted, outraged at the underhanded tactic.

"The other way to counterbalance is to be otherwise flawless in the public eye. If you are the ideal son and Laxus comports himself well in public, people may forgive him his past."

"He has _nothing_ to apologize about," Freed bellowed, feeling protective over Laxus.

"Others may see it differently, including himself."

Freed blinked in surprise. Did Laxus truly feel like his past was a shame, like he had to apologize for what he did back then? There were moments when he seemed disgusted by his past, but Freed had accepted him for who he was from the very beginning.

"I highly recommend you _seriously_ watch out what you do in public," Llewellyn continued. "Attending the opera house is perfectly fine, but I'm afraid I must forbid you from stepping into any _club_ of ill-repute."

Freed gulped, and the tightness in his chest was back. Laxus had all but confessed that Llewellyn once went to the fetish club. He knew where Laxus worked, and he probably knew he was not merely _an electrician_.

"I would also recommend you try to convince him to stop working there."

Freed opened his mouth to protest again.

"I know," Llewellyn butted in, holding up his hands to placate him. "I know I have no right to dictate where he works, but for _your_ sake, the more public exposure he gets in places like that, the harder it will be on _you_. It'll be impossible to convince the public he's not the same man as before when he's still working as a stripper."

Freed mumbled angrily, "He's _not_ a stripper."

"Then whatever it is he does. Something about demonstrations, that's all I know. Doing live demos means hundreds see him every week. They know who he is. He doesn't hide his identity at all, not even with a fake name anymore. And I'm pretty sure I don't need to say this, but you participating in a fetish club in any sort of way, no matter how minor, is absolutely _out of the question_. If I find out you do, you _will not_ be CEO of this company."

The squeeze in his chest clenched so tightly, Freed felt like his heart was about to explode.

Llewellyn slammed his finger onto the magazine. "You are a public face. You should watch what you do in public from now on. I swear, Freed, if I have to bribe members of the paparazzi to cover up a sex scandal because Laxus couldn't keep it in his pants, I may have _no choice_ but to fire you. So please, for the sake of not just the company, but of our whole family, _please_ be careful from now on."

He dropped his head. "Yes, Father."

Freed almost felt like crying now. No more fetish club. No more public kinks. Laxus would never want to quit the club, and he would probably get mad for Freed even suggesting it. His life was as regulated now as an adult as it had been when he was a child.

Llewellyn saw the sullen look on Freed's face and sighed. He stood from his leather chair, walked around the massive table, pulled the other chair over, and sat beside Freed, no longer a CEO and his employee, but purely as father and son.

"I don't like being a dictator in your life," he assured softly. "You're a strong man, brilliant, fiercely independent—always have been," he said, smiling with pride. "I shouldn't have to remind you of this stuff."

"Then why are you?" he snapped, trying to keep his voice steady.

Llewellyn let out a nearly inaudible sigh. His lips twisted, but he whispered, "I think you know why."

Freed jolted. Oh shit! "Wh-what? When?"

"There's been more than once?" Llewellyn asked, looking disappointed and almost angry.

Freed could not answer truthfully. Hell, he was wearing a _cock cage_ under his pants right at that moment!

"The employee parking lot has security cameras. Two of our security guards are enjoying a vacation in Hawaii right now, thanks to your indiscretion."

Freed's cheeks lost all heat and color. That day in the Corvette! Fuck! Someone actually saw. He should have known there was security, but he honestly thought they were out of view of any cameras.

With a dry throat and feeling deeply ashamed, Freed whispered, "Will there be problems?"

"No, I made sure. I can control my own employees, but I can't control everything."

Freed thought about things he and Laxus had said. He really wanted car sex again. He seriously wanted a blow job in the restroom again some day. Plus that erotic dream last night, fucking on the desk now directly in front of him, pressing Laxus against the window. All impossible.

It really had been foolish, risky, and careless.

"It won't happen again," he muttered, staring at the desk as those erotic dreams died with the reality of his social position.

"I trust that it won't." Llewellyn straightened up, back into CEO-mode. "We have a joint interview scheduled this weekend with the Times. It's meant to coincide with the publishing of Fiore Business Magazine. Your presence is mandatory. Photos will be taken, so dress nicely … and make sure any bruises are covered up."

He flushed that his father could mention BDSM bruising so casually in conversation.

"One last thing." Llewellyn looked aside and sighed. "Damn! I really hate to tell you this."

Freed raised his head, worried what could be even worse.

After a moment, Llewellyn continued. "You must be the one to make Laxus realize what his limits are and stand by them. As the submissive in your relationship, you set the borders. He may not like all the restrictions. He seems the sort who doesn't like being told he can't do something. You _must_ be firm and deny him. He'll push your limits; it's practically his job to do that. You _must_ tell him no! No matter what, you need to be firm."

"You're hinting he won't like it."

"I'm fairly certain he won't," Llewellyn admitted. "This issue … it could be a deal-breaker."

Freed's hands drew into stubborn fists. "Laxus wouldn't break up with me just because I set some limits on public exposure."

"He could."

"I know he wouldn't," Freed said loyally.

Deep inside, he knew Laxus would understand. After all, except for the fetish club, Laxus had always tried to talk Freed out of public kinks. In the car, Laxus had warned him against it. In the men's restroom, he had insisted it was too dangerous. Freed was the one who liked the thrill. He knew it would probably end up with him begging and Laxus being the stern one denying his craving for thrills.

"Just make sure he understands. Take the magazine with you. Perhaps if he sees you on the cover, the reality of your position will sink in … for _both_ of you!"

Freed nodded and took the magazine. "Father … I apologize for snapping earlier."

"It's understandable. In the future, I will warn you earlier about periodicals. It slipped my mind. Things have been really hectic, especially with Bickslow's recovery."

"How is he doing, anyway? I haven't seen him in a couple of weeks."

"Slow, but steadily getting better. He should be home by the summer garden party. You and Laxus are invited to that, _only_ if he provides a list of his former clients."

"I'll talk to him about it."

"Thank you. Now, back to work with you."

Freed tipped his head in respect and left the office. He returned to his desk, but his mind was a blank.

He and Laxus had been caught!

What if someone recognized him from the fetish club?

What if this magazine came out, and someone said "Hey, isn't he that angel who was paddled?"

What if word got out?

His heart began to race as he thought about the media frenzy, the wild rumors, tabloids, the company being blackmailed, stocks plummeting, Laxus villainized as an abusive sexual deviant, being unable to leave the condo without wading through a mob of reporters. He had seen it happen to others in lower positions than himself.

He brought out his cellphone and texted Laxus.

_'I have news when you get home. Sorta good, sorta bad.'_

He looked at the magazine again. Seeing his face on such a prestigious national magazine was surreal. While it was a great honor, it was terrifying.

He would have to get used to publicity.

That meant being more cautious when out in public.

No more fetish club. No more public sex.

He felt like his world was closing in.

"Laxus," he whispered, clutching his phone. He sent another message.

_'I need you tonight, if at all possible.'_

He needed Laxus, needed him to be something great, something more overwhelming than his own life and responsibilities, all-consuming, to humble him, humiliate him, make him normal, make him _human_ again, instead of this glossy symbol of a perfect future for the business. He needed to be normalized and balanced, plunged into hell and soared straight up to heaven, only to drift back to earth as a simple man, nothing more.

His phone buzzed, and Freed's heart raced before he could even check it.

_'I'll be there by 7. Eat dinner early, because you won't be able to walk later. Have the cage off and be naked. I'm fucking you until neither one of us can move.'_

He closed down the chat screen in a rush and glanced around in paranoia, terrified someone may have seen that. The phone buzzed again, then two more times, but he was scared to see what more Laxus had to say. Once he was certain no one was around, he peeked at it.

_'Freed? You there? If you're really bad, I can leave right now.'_

He smiled at how attentive Laxus was, willing to drop everything for him. He wrote back:

_'No, I'm okay. Rough day, I'll tell you about it later … after I can't leave the bed.'_

_'I keep staring at your caged dick. I want it. Now!'_

Freed blushed and hid his phone again. He glanced around the office. He did not have any pressing work, so he got up as if to use the restroom. He checked, made sure the entire restroom was empty, then hid in a stall, lowered his pants and boxers, and angled the phone to take another shot of the golden cock cage. He sent the picture.

_'You mean this? You want it?'_ 3 [Imagine the 3 is a heart symbol, FFN hides smilies and symbols to I did my best, grrrrr!]

_'Fuck YES!'_

Freed licked his lips as he reached down, cradled his balls, and took another picture fondling himself. He sent the photo while biting his lower lip.

_'Do you want me to do anything?'_

_'Dammit Freed, I'm in public.'_

Freed stifled a laugh.

_'Hold the fuck on. Wait!'_ A couple of minutes passed with Freed just standing there, pants down, wondering what Laxus might order him. Maybe they could not be kinky in public, but restrooms still afforded some privacy. _'Are you in the can?'_

_'Still here and waiting, getting bored.'_

_'Fuck you. Let me see your face.'_

Freed held the camera out and took a selfie.

_'You look too damn handsome. Undo your shirt but keep the tie on. Let me see your nipples.'_

Freed caught his breath. He set the phone down as he unbuttoned his shirt and spread it apart. With the tie on, he could not easily move the rest of the clothes, only pull it apart. He took another shot, this time with his chest exposed. His cheeks showed how humiliating this was.

_'Damn yes. Scratch yourself, good and hard. I want to see the nail marks on your skin.'_

Freed flinched as his cock began to get hard from the sheer arousal of having Laxus order him around. He placed his nails against his chest, tensing up as he awaited the pain. Then he scratched down hard. He gasped at the shock of pain. Thankfully, no one else was in the restroom. He breathed through the sting, trembled as he held the camera out, and took the picture. His face showed the flinching of pain and five pink lines coming up on his pale chest.

_'That's beautiful. Are you hard?'_

_'It's ___starting_ to get hard.'_

_'Let me see.'_

Freed lowered the camera to show how his cock had filled the chastity device to the point of pulling on the ring secured around his scrotum.

_'Fucking majestic! I'm going to kiss those scratches tonight and pleasure that cock of yours. I'll make you come twice, maybe more if you're able to. I'm gonna make you never want me to leave.'_

Freed sighed wistfully. _'I already don't want you to leave me ever again.'_

_'I need to hear that._ :) _ I'm almost done here. Can't wait to see you.'_

_'Did you actually inherit something?'_

_'Yeah, nothing weird, thank God, just some cash. Tell you about it later.'_

Freed had thought about waiting to mention the business magazine, but he knew it would bother him all day. He typed in quickly. _'Something happened today. I'm on a magazine cover. My father didn't warn me about it. I have to be careful in public from now on. Also, we got caught that time in the parking garage. No serious trouble, but Father chewed me out a bit.'_

_'Fuck! Are you okay?'_

_'Stressed. I need you tonight. Not an emergency.'_

_'That fucking dad of yours keeps pissing me off.'_ ( Ò_Ó )

_'Sorry.'_ ( T_T )

_'It's not you. I'd beat him except he'd like it, so I'm going to beat you instead. Get dressed, do your work, go home, eat, and get naked. I want to see this magazine first. Gonna smack your ass with that magazine.'_

_'Mmm!'_ 3 [A/N: another heart symbol missing :( ...]

_'I hope it's a thick one. I should make my own mag of you. A porn mag, full-page pictures of you tied up and drooling all over yourself. I'd beat off to that mag every day.'_

_'Laxus!'_

_'Or do you want one of me? A full page of this?'_

A photo came over the phone, a closeup of Laxus with an arousal. Freed covered his mouth against a shout of instant arousal. He flopped down onto the toilet as he gawked at the glorious picture.

"Shit!" he hissed as his cock throbbed and began to pull painfully at the restraining cage.

_'Your cock hurting?'_

_'Yes!'_

_'Good. Save it for me. Tell you what. DO NOT remove the cage. I'll do it. Be naked, in a collar, wearing your precious gold cage. White color. I want my angel tonight.'_ 3

Freed smiled dreamily. His angel! Laxus even sent a heart. How sweet!

* * *

[A/N: **This** is why the heart symbols were IMPORTANT! It's a moment in Laxus' characterization. He sends Freed a HEART! It's CUTE! FFN, why do you do this to meeeeee? Ò_Ó  
...ahem...forgive me...]

* * *

_'I need my thunder god.'_

_'You'll get a good jolt, I promise you that!'_

Freed closed his eyes and pictured it, being on the bed, Laxus smothering him and overwhelming him, thrusting all his cares away. He stroked along the cage, although his cock could only barely feel the heat of his fingers. Then his phone buzzed again, and Freed yanked himself out of the fantasy.

_'Fuck, we need to stop or I'm gonna jerk off, and I promised not to. Are you sure you're okay?'_

Freed thought about it. He had been panicking earlier, but now … now he felt confident. Laxus would make him normal again. Life was bearable with that man by his side. _'I'm feeling better.'_

_'Text if anything comes up. I mean it.'_

_'Thank you, Laxus.'_

_'Don't thank me. I'm glad you pulled me out of some ass boring gossip shit. I'm gonna drink up their booze then head home. Be ready for me.'_

_'Yes, master. Ready and eager.'_ 3

_'Fuck I want to leave now!'_

_'Don't take too long.'_

_'I will walk through the door right at seven o'clock. Be waiting submissively.'_

_'On my knees and ready for your cock, master.'_

_'Fuck, Freed!'_

_'That's what I want you to do, master. Fuck Freed!' _333 [A/N: Yeah, three hearts! Romantic sexy Freed!]

_'Dammit, stop right now. Shit, you're too sexy.'_

Freed stifled a laugh. He imagined Laxus flushed and troubled by his arousal flaring up again.

_'Be safe coming home.'_

_'Yeah … you too. See you tonight.'_

_'I'll be waiting.'_

They left it at that. Freed put his phone away, buttoned up his shirt, still flinching over the welts coming up, and yanked his pants back on. He took one last look down at the cage.

For now, he had to be a Justine, the CEO's son, dignified and steadfast.

He would be _FREED_ tonight.

**Next Chapter: "Like No Tomorrow"**


	47. Like No Tomorrow

Chapter 47

**Like No Tomorrow**

Laxus stumbled off a bus, pale and sweaty.

"Sir, your bag!" the driver shouted.

Damn, he did _not_ want to go back onto that metal tube of horror! Luckily someone brought the bag up front to him, Laxus muttered a thanks as he took it, and he collapsed onto the bus stop bench with his head dropped between his knees. The bus driver shook his head, shut the door, and pulled off back into traffic.

Somehow, Laxus had managed not to throw up the whole journey, not in the taxi that took him from the mansion, nor the train ride back into town, nor the bus with its frequent stops and starts. He did not want to be sick and shaky when he got home.

He checked his watch. It was a little after six. Freed would be home by now. The condo was not that far away, but Laxus knew he wanted to stay in tonight. Hell, he wanted to fuck Freed without end! Fuck him not just until morning, but through the next two days, nonstop! However, as he felt now, weak and sick and hungry from the long ride, he wouldn't last a quickie without fainting.

He shouldered his bag and went to a café oddly named The Snake Pit. He and Freed had eaten here a few times since it was close, and they now knew the couple who ran it, a sweet girl named Kinana and her shady boyfriend/partner/whatever named Erik, whom everyone called Cobra. He was quiet, but he cooked some amazing food, while Kinana was the one who served people and stayed social. Laxus decided to eat a light dinner here, guzzling three cups of coffee while he was at it to chase away the haze of all the alcohol he had earlier that afternoon.

While he was finishing a burger and chips, a young woman strode in wearing an angel costume. She chastised Cobra for not being ready for a party they had apparently planned to attend later. Laxus realized he was the only person in the café, and they had probably planned to close early. He shoved the rest of the food in his mouth, gulped it down with the coffee, and laid money on the table.

"That'll cover the bill. Thanks for the grub, Cobra," he hollered, waving as he left.

Kinana hurried to clean the table with Angel tapping her foot impatiently. She gasped when she saw the money. Although Laxus had only ordered a burger and coffee, he left a fifty dollar bill on the table.

"I knew those two were rich," Cobra grumbled.

Laxus checked his watch again. He still had ten minutes, so he began a relaxed walk to the condo.

How was he going to handle this? He had plans yesterday, wild and naughty schemes. That dream about his father messed him up, though. Part of him honestly did not want sex. He wanted to grab Freed, hold him on the couch all night watching whatever crap was on TV, and just _be with him_. However, he knew Freed has needs. He had a bad day from the sound of things.

Besides, it wasn't like he _didn't_ want sex. He knew as soon as he saw Freed naked and submissive, he would not be able to hold back.

He just felt … different today.

He honestly did not know how to balance things in his life at that moment. He normally liked to plan a scene for them beforehand, but he figured today he would wing it. He would see how Freed felt, what he needed, and figure out how he felt when the moment arrived. Holding Freed just might banish all this darkness in his heart.

He went into the condo building and nodded to the bored security officer guarding the entrance. He remembered the first time he went into this place, where you needed a key card just to open the front door, and the guard would stop new visitors. How the hell did that guy know absolutely everyone in this big-ass complex? Laxus had never lived in an apartment with security. Hell, his last place did not even have a maintenance man, the landlord did minor repairs himself. It made Laxus realize just how posh this place was, a completely different world from what he had grown up in.

_"Save yourself the decades of therapy and kill me so you can go back to your sugar daddy and suck his gold-plated cock."_

Laxus shook the dream words out of his head. It was just a dream!

He rode up the elevator, still rubbing his head as that nightmare kept playing.

_"You're gonna hurt him bad one day, y'know."_

He would never hurt Freed! But … what if it was an accident? What if Freed tried to push himself for Laxus' sake? What if—?

The elevator doors opened, and he strode out. He needed Freed! He needed to see him and hold him, reassure himself that they were okay, they would _always_ be okay, he would _never_ turn into his father.

He checked his watch. 6:59 PM. He really did not want to wait, but he had promised, 7:00 on the dot. He took a deep breath. Freed needed him. Freed had a bad day, they both did. They needed one another.

'_Damn, how did I end up so dependent? Fucking annoying!_'

The minute hand twitched. 7PM. Show time.

No … he was not _Thor_ anymore. Thor was a bastard who beat men with the purpose of training himself to murder a parent. He never wanted to be that man again.

Never.

He was Laxus Dreyar, boyfriend of Freed Justine and luckiest sonuvabitch in the world. It was time to be the best boyfriend he could be.

He opened the door and froze. Just as he requested, Freed had knelt on the ground in front of the door, naked except the white collar and golden chastity device.

His angel!

"Welcome home, master."

Laxus stepped in, closed the door, and simply gazed upon him. Freed's long, green hair splayed all around him, too perfectly. He must have struggled to get his hair to fan out like that. Who knows how long he had been kneeling there, waiting for this moment.

_'Fucking divine!'_

Laxus walked up to him and placed a hand on his lowered head, smoothing the unruly cowlicks only to watch them spring back up. Freed had an adorable blush on his cheeks. All these months together, and he still blushed. Laxus loved that about him.

"How is my angel?"

Freed jolted and gazed up. Angel? Not slave? His cheeks went even hotter to hear that.

"I'm good, master. I—"

Laxus dropped to his knees and crushed Freed in a fervent, needful hug. He could not control himself. He really needed to be in Freed's arms.

"Damn, I missed you. So stupid, not even forty-eight hours apart, and … I really am pathetic."

Freed jolted out of master/slave play. He wrapped his arms around Laxus and lovingly stroked his hair. Playtime could begin later.

"I'm glad you're back," he whispered into Laxus' ear.

"We're idiots," he grumbled.

"We're in love. We're allowed to be."

Laxus' shoulders jostled in a soft chuckle. Idiots in love! That was definitely them.

He grabbed Freed's cheeks, gazed at him for a moment as if he had not seen him in years, and finally kissed him. It was not deep, wet, or messy. It was just a kiss: tender, powerful, and compassionate. When he pulled back, he saw tears lining Freed's long lashes. The yearning and happiness in those turquoise eyes shined vividly. It was obvious he had missed Laxus just as much.

Laxus smoothed down the green hair and whispered, "Can it wait?"

Freed glanced down at the collar and the chastity device, then he looked back up with a smile and nodded. There was time for sex and kinks. Right now, they simply needed to be with one another.

"Show me that magazine. I want to read it while I hold you."

Freed slowly stood up, and Laxus steadied him as he rubbed out his legs after kneeling for so long. Once Freed could stand on his own, Laxus removed the dressy suit coat he had been forced to wear and loosened his tie, yet did not remove it yet. Meanwhile, Freed walked over to where he had placed the copy of Fiore Business Magazine. Laxus snatched it up and looked at the cover. He had seen this magazine in stores, although he never had an interest in the business world. However, the dashing man on the cover now would have made even him pause to stare for a moment.

"This picture is too damn good," he grumbled.

He wrapped an arm around Freed and pulled him over to the couch. He flopped down and patted on his lap. Freed gently sat down, but Laxus yanked him in, curling his arm around Freed while he glanced at the title and subcategories. He nuzzled Freed's hair and naked shoulders as he opened the magazine to the page with the article.

"Hold it for me," he commanded.

Freed held the magazine up, freeing Laxus' hands to rub over his body. He tried to hold the pages as still as possible, but Laxus kept nibbling all the sensitive spots on his neck. His hands clutched at him possessively at first, but slowly they stroked along his chest, across his pectorals, and along his abs. Freed gulped as Laxus petted him so tenderly, resting his chin or his lips on his shoulder, reading the magazine while breathing hot air onto his skin.

"Flip the page," he ordered.

Freed trembled at the deep-voiced demand. His hands shook as he turned the page and held the magazine up again.

"Huh! I never knew that about your company."

Freed gulped to free up his dry throat. "Wh-what part?"

"You guys are really global and shit. Expanding into Korea? That's adventurous."

"Father keeps leaving on trips there."

"Does he plan on taking you?" Laxus muttered, reading as his hands went lower, caressing up and down Freed's bare thighs.

He gasped and swallowed again. "He … he hasn't … m-mentioned it."

"I don't want you to go. Not yet. Not unless I'm there. I'll be your bodyguard. Strange country, strange people. I don't like it."

"You need … _nnngh_ … p-passport."

"I'll get one. If you leave on a trip outside of this country, I want to be with you."

"So demanding," he teased, grinning back around at Laxus with love in his eyes.

"Shut up. You're shaking the pages too much. I can't read them."

"It's … it's hard to stay still … when you're doing that."

"Oh?" he said in amusement, and his hand slipped between Freed's thighs, cupping his balls. "You mean this?"

He gasped and leaned back into Laxus' chest.

"You moved the magazine. Hold it still."

Freed shook as he lifted the pages back up, barely able to focus as Laxus gently rolled his balls around in those thick, rough fingers. His cock struggled against the golden cage.

"Hold … it … still."

He groaned, but his hands clenched the magazine, straining to hold it as still as possible. Laxus kept reading, his lips sucking marks along the back of Freed's shoulder, his hand still pulsing between his thighs.

"Interesting. You're quite an important person."

Freed looked back around with flushed cheeks. "Maybe, but you're the most important person in my life."

Laxus took his eyes off the magazine and gazed at Freed. His hand stopped fondling him and reach up to caressing his cheek.

"How are you so perfect?" he muttered, partly to himself.

Freed set the magazine aside, twisted around, and straddled over Laxus' thighs. "I'm not perfect. Not at all. That's why I need this. I need to be your little slave. Please, just … have me do something to please you. I _need_ to."

"You … need to please me?" he asked, slightly in awe. No one in his life ever needed him like that. They needed Laxus for their own gains. His clients, his father, even his mother at times, especially when she got cancer: they needed Laxus to help them.

How many _needed him_ purely to help _him_?

"You said you would suck me," he muttered.

Freed failed to hold back a smirk. He slid down, kneeling between Laxus' legs, and caressed him through his dressy black slacks.

"May I, master?"

Laxus shivered deep inside, although nothing showed on the surface. He lowered his zipper, no underwear on just like Freed had requested, and pulled out a semi-hard cock. Freed licked his lips hungrily as he grasped it with both hands, eager to bring it fully up.

"Don't make me come, not until I finish the magazine. Suck it, but don't disturb my reading."

Freed looked up as if tortured. He could suck but not be disturbing? _How?_

"Figure it out," Laxus said to his unspoken question.

Freed pouted, but he looked at the cock with determination. He was smart, a college graduate, finished top in his class in high school. He could at least work out how to give Laxus a non-disturbing blowjob.

Laxus picked up the magazine and opened back to where he had left off. He was determined to read every word printed. After all, this was an article about Freed. It was a side to him he did not really get to see, the business side, the cunning junior manager, the heir to an international corporation. He wanted to see that side of his lover as well.

Laxus' throat hitched as Freed's tongue licked him. This was torture for him as well. He wanted to pound his cock into Freed's throat until he choked. Instead, he sat there, legs spread, magazine open, reading in silence while below Freed licked and slurped with soft hums.

"You're too noisy."

The sounds instantly went away. There was only that tongue, sometimes the whole mouth went down on him. Reading was a challenge, but Laxus pretended to not even notice Freed's ministrations.

He flipped a page, although he caught less than half of the last paragraph. He folded the magazine to hold with one hand, kept reading, and put the other hand on Freed's head, thrusting his mouth down onto his cock, bobbing him on it.

"You're already impressing a lot of people in the business world," he noted. "I wonder what they would think, though, if they knew you loved sucking cock so much. All those intelligent answers being spoken by a mouth that loves being filled with my dick."

Freed moaned loudly, shuddering at the humiliation.

"Such a good smile in this photo. Those pearly white teeth, perfect lips. None of them know what those lips look like stretched around my cock. None of them see those gleaming teeth snarling as you lose yourself to the pleasure I give you. Fuck, if they knew what you looked like naked with cum dripping from your mouth, they'd think you were a whore, not a business magnate's son."

Freed panted and reached down. His cock was swollen and caged, desperate but denied. Still, he touched what he could through the metal prison bars of his golden cock cage.

"They write all this fancy shit about you, but I know the real you. I know how much you love to come home, be my naked slave, suck my cock, pant like a bitch in heat, and spill your cum all over yourself with my name on your lips."

Freed yanked up with a pained whine. "Master, please! It's hurting now."

Laxus set the magazine down. "Hurting? You mean _my_ dick, the one only _I_ can free?"

As much as Freed liked the sadistic torture, his face showed displeasure with this sort of discomfort. "Release me, master. I beg of you. I … I want to be _freed_."

"Freed?" He cupped the flushed cheeks with both hands and pulled his face up closer. "Who makes you freed?"

He closed his eyes, savoring the rough hands, and a tear slipped out. "You, master."

"No. My name. Who makes you freed?"

Freed blushed slightly, but he said the name with all the love surging in his heart. "Laxus Dreyar."

He leaned forward and kissed Freed, tasting the tang of his own cock on those lips. When he pulled back, he looked on with serious eyes.

"Call me that tonight. No _master_. Call me by my name."

Freed's brow tensed. Was something wrong? Why was he so serious about this?

"Hold onto that magazine."

Freed picked up the magazine in confusion. Laxus suddenly grabbed Freed and lifted him into his arms as he stood. Then Laxus marched into the bedroom carrying him as he held on tightly around his neck.

Laxus threw Freed onto the bed with enough roughness to make him bounce over the mattress. The magazine went flying, and green hair spread out over the sheets.

"You want to be _freed_, huh?" Laxus reached into his back pocket and pulled out the tiny key. "If I free you, will you be my angel? Or will you fly away?"

Freed blushed at being called an angel again. "I'm not flying away anywhere."

"Then what are you going to be?" Laxus knelt beside Freed on the bed with the key in hand. "Tell me."

Freed shook his head, feeling it was too much honor.

Laxus grabbed his chin and yanked it up. "Tell me, and I'll free you."

His mouth was tight, but he muttered with embarrassment. "A-angel."

"Tell me clearly."

He gulped hard. "I'll be … your angel."

Laxus smoothed down the green hair and kissed Freed on the forehead. "You always are," he whispered.

Those tender words made Freed's cheeks go crimson.

Laxus finally unlocked the chastity belt, eased off the ring around the scrotum and the cage keeping the penis from rising too much. Freed immediately moaned in relief as his cock could finally lift without the tugging discomfort.

"You wore it all day," Laxus praised. He leaned over and kissed a spot that was pink from friction. "You did precisely as I asked." He kissed more, fluttering his lips along the arousal. "Such a good angel, protecting yourself from devilish temptation while your _god_ is away."

Freed cried out sensually. His whole body arched at the teasing kisses. "Laxus!"

"Yes. Call me that tonight." He kept kissing, not sucking, not giving anywhere near enough. He saw from the flush to the cock, Freed would not last long if given the chance. His lips moved up, kissing along the sharp hips. Then he suddenly bit where Freed's hip protruded.

"Ahhh!" Freed reached down, needing just a little more.

Laxus grabbed his hand before he could stroke off. "No," he said coldly.

"Please, I need it!" He did not care that he was begging. His cock ached, his balls were tight, he was ready to go, and he did not want to delay any longer.

"I said no." Laxus yanked off his necktie and bound Freed's wrists together, securing them to the headboard. "I will decide when my angel can cry Hallelujah."

Freed squirmed against the necktie. He thought he could actually break out with ease, but he was stunned to find that the knot was completely secure. He gave a solid yank, and still it did not loosen. Laxus' knots were done with the skill of a sailor.

Laxus hovered over him, licking the muscular abdominal muscles, kissing all over the pectorals, sucking up marks along his shoulders, although avoiding the neck which might show at work. Under him, Freed squirmed like a caught fish. His face was red, and he bit hard on his lower lip as he felt a desperate need to come yet no friction, no touches to his cock.

"God! Please!" he sobbed.

Laxus continued to nibble along his collarbone. "Do you need to return the magazine?"

"What?" Freed struggled to think enough to answer. "I … n-no. No, it's mine."

"Good." Laxus grabbed the magazine and wrapped it around Freed's cock. "You're gonna come all over that smug face on that cover. All over those fancy words and praising paragraphs. You're gonna smear that whole fucking article with your cum."

Freed flinched at the roughness of the cover page and the sharp edge of the pages as the magazine surrounded him like a paper tube. It hurt, and yet he was already too far gone to care.

"You're gonna see that magazine at work, in the store, on shelves, probably framed on your father's wall, and you're gonna know you got _fucked_ by that magazine. I fucked you with it. And you loved it. You loved it so much, you splattered your cum all over that glossy cover, all over your own face. You're gonna see that haughty smirk of yours in that photo and remember what it looks like dripping in cum."

"Laxus!" he screamed, arching and yanking tight on the necktie binding.

"Do you like fucking this magazine? You're really into it, moving your hips like that. Do you like thrusting against your own picture? Sort of like having sex with yourself. Such a whorish businessman! You'll remember this your whole life, ya know. You got on the cover of _Fiore Business Magazine_, and you _fucked it!_"

He cried out, knowing he really would always remember this, remember the feel of those pages on his cock, thrusting into the tube of that magazine because he needed to cum so badly, he did not even care what rubbed his cock. He would remember this every time he saw that magazine, and he would feel the deep humiliation each time someone mentioned it.

He drew up, his nails dug into his fists, tears slid from his eyes, and he felt his whole body blaze for a moment, glorious with release. He felt the moistness on the pages, smearing all over it and the cover.

He would remember this.

He would remember the humiliation of fucking a magazine.

And he would remember how _good_ it felt.

Laxus saw him calming down and slowed his wrist. He slowly unrolled the magazine, keeping the cum on the cover and not dripping any of it.

"I'm keeping this. Gonna let it dry precisely how it is, smeared in your cum, and I'm keeping that cover as proof. That photo of you looks really damn good drenched in cum."

Freed breathed hard, slumped, spent, buzzing with relief. He watched as Laxus placed the magazine aside on a small desk, making sure nothing spilled onto the wood. Then he stood there and began to unbutton his shirt.

It was no striptease. Although Freed liked when Laxus did that, he also like it this way, no nonsense, simply getting naked so their bodies could come together.

"Untie me. I … I can suck … o-or … gimme a moment and … lube … need lube."

Laxus walked over to the bed wearing only his pants. He easily yanked the knot out of the tie—Freed wondered how he did that—and stroked his head.

"You rest. I gotta pee."

With just that, he left to the bathroom. Freed sat there, still in a slight daze and dizzy with afterglow.

Minutes ticked by. He figured Laxus must have needed to do more than just pee. He rose stiffly, walked to the desk, and looked at the magazine. It was a mess! Freed covered his mouth in shock at just how much cum was all over the cover. The white, thick fluid had already begun to congeal.

He seriously hoped Laxus was exaggerating when he said he would _keep_ this.

He finally heard the toilet flush, and he returned to the bed, wondering what would come next. He had thought Laxus would beat his ass with the magazine, yet he changed his mind and used it to jerk him off. Laxus was obviously in a strange mood, calmer, perhaps even more gentle. Freed liked the change, although he really wanted some master/slave play tonight. Still, if this was Laxus' need, this gentler side who preferred to cuddle, caress, and pamper, he wanted Laxus to get over whatever stress he must have had that day.

When Laxus finally stepped back into the bedroom, he was naked. Freed gulped hard, his eyes unable to stop wandering. No matter how many times he got to see Laxus nude, he was still a sight to behold, all muscles and bronze skin, tattoos and scars. It was intimidating just to be in the same room as such a massive man overflowing with strength.

Laxus strode over to the bed and slipped under the covers, pulling them up to his waist. Freed looked on in confusion, but he also scurried under the blankets so he could be against Laxus' skin.

They laid on the pillows, faces close, noses touching, yet Laxus' hands stayed above the sheets. He stroked along Freed's arm, over the torso hidden by blankets, and his toes rubbed against Freed's feet, but nothing more.

"Just roll with me on this one," he whispered.

Freed nodded, not sure what the game was going to be, but willing to let Laxus decide.

Laxus threaded his fingers through the long hair and tugged to bring Freed in closer for a kiss. Their arms wrapped around one another, and they began to simply make out in bed. Lips and tongues danced, softly at first, gradually growing stronger, needier. Finally, Laxus' hands went under the blankets, and he pulled Freed's body closer. Still, all he did was hold him and kiss him. Their breathing got heavy, gasping, hands grew more adventurous, and Freed felt himself recovering slowly.

"I know I said I'd make love to you gently," Laxus said between kisses, "but sometimes … sometimes I really wanna ravage you."

"Yes-s-s-s!" Freed hissed as his hips began to cant on their own, frotting up against Laxus.

"Sometimes I want to worship this body of yours and barely feel worthy of touching it, and sometimes … fuck! Sometimes I want to defile it, because it's so goddamn perfect."

Freed shuddered. Both extremes sounded so good to him. To be venerated, to be desecrated. Everything!

"But sometimes…" Laxus grabbed Freed's hips and rolled hard, yanking him up on top. "Sometimes, I need to be the one defiled."

Freed gawked. Wait! Did he mean…?

"I'm a devil, Freed. I need my angel to smite me."

Freed reached down to touch Laxus' cheek with concern. "What happened today?"

He grabbed Freed's wrist, pulling away the gentle caress. "I don't wanna talk. I wanna be fucked."

"Laxus…"

"Shut up and do what I say."

"No! Tell me what's…"

Freed was lifted, thrown completely off the bed, and slammed to the floor. He cried out as his hip bruised, and suddenly Laxus was on top of him. For a second, Freed was honestly terrified at the desperation in those enraged eyes.

"I need to be fucked, and I ain't talking until I get it. I don't want you to comfort me or anything. I want you to moan as you pound my ass. Even if it's your cock in me, I am _not_ gonna be gentle about this. We have safewords, and you better as hell use them, because I am _not_ fucking around tonight."

He grabbed his necktie again and roughly wrapped it around Freed's mouth, gagging him. He pinned Freed's wrists to the floor with one hand, and with the other he grabbed Freed's cock, steadying it. Then slowly, Laxus settled over the arousal and sank down onto it. Freed's eyes widened in surprise, and he tried to shout through the tie.

"Shit, yes! I need to feel that."

Freed shivered. He could feel it now; what took Laxus so long in the bathroom was prepping himself. He did a thorough job of it, too. Freed slid inside with ease and watched Laxus' face as he gasped in pleasure.

"I'm gonna make you fuck me. Gonna make you defile me. Damn, I love making my angel sin like this." He grinned down haughtily as his hips rocked up and down onto Freed. "How do you like it?"

He could only moan through the gag.

"Ya know what the Bible calls this? Sodomy! Sodom and Gomorrah. People there were so damn horny, they wanted to fuck a couple of angels. God blasted 'em with fire and brimstone for it. And yet here I am, forcing an angel to fuck me. I bet those bastards in Sodom would be really jealous of me right now."

Freed cried out through the necktie. Perhaps he was not religious, but merely hearing about angels and smiting gods put a dirtier edge to what they were doing.

"Ya know, there's another story we used to hear in schul. Ever heard of the Nephilim? Angels came down, fucked a bunch of women, and the bitches had kids who were giants. The giants were called Nephilim, really screwed up the Earth, so God sent the Flood to wipe 'em all out. Stupid angels. They shouldn't have fucked a chick and gotten her pregnant. They should have gone to Sodom and Gomorrah, fucked all the gay guys there, and they could have kept on having fun." He smirked down at Freed as he pounded down onto his cock. "Is my angel having fun?"

Freed tried to speak through the gag and was muffled.

"You're right. I'm just taking you. That ain't the same thing."

Laxus pulled off and stood up. He grabbed Freed into his arms and set him back on the bed. Freed rubbed out his wrists. There were already pink marks that would turn into bruises from Laxus pinning him down. Suddenly, his chin was yanked up, and he was forced to look into dominant blue eyes. Without a word, Laxus unraveled the necktie from Freed's mouth. He stretched out his stiff jaw and licked his lips. Then Laxus laid back against the pillows and spread his legs.

"You're going to fuck me. Hard."

Freed jolted at the demand. Hard? He did not mind some gentle lovemaking on top, but … to do it rough to Laxus … he began to shake his head, not sure if he could do that.

"I _said_…" Laxus whipped the necktie around Freed's hips and yanked him in closer with a fierce tug. "…you … are going … to fuck me … _hard! _Now, get your dick in me. That's an order."

Freed shuddered at the commanding shouts. He hurried to obey, lining himself up and trying to be gentle as he guided it in. However, Laxus tugged on the tie wrapped around his ass so hard, Freed slammed in, unable to resist.

"Yes! Like that. Are you going to obey me, or do I need to force you to sin?"

Freed tried to steady himself to get some balance so he could resist another tug like that.

"No. I see what you're planning."

Laxus grabbed Freed's wrists and the necktie, bound them together again, and threw the end of the tie over the top of the headboard. With a yank, he hoisted Freed's hands up. They jerked forward and upward, and his balance faltered. He began to fall forward onto Laxus, but the contortion in his arms just barely kept him from crashing down completely. His hands were above the headboard now, unable to grasp it for support, yet too far away from the wall to brace himself on that. Laxus swiftly tied him there, his arms above, his body without any stability except the knees on the mattress.

"Better. Now…" Laxus grabbed Freed's hips and dug his fingers in tightly. "I'm gonna _force_ you to fuck me the way I want it."

He yanked Freed's hips in, slamming them forward, and hissed as the cock pounded inside.

"Yes. Like that." He fully controlled how deep, how fast, and how hard Freed could go. "Fuck, yes. I need you, Freed. Need it hard."

Freed was completely at his mercy, unable to do anything but hang above that barrel chest with an ache in his shoulders and feel himself being forcefully pulled inside. It felt so tight, so good, and the fact that Laxus needed him so desperately sparked through his nerves. Everything Laxus whispered, every curse, every prayer, each puff heated breath, showed just how deep his love went.

"Laxus … Laxus, please … slow down a little."

"You don't get to tell me what to do, bitch."

Freed bit on his lips. "If you keep this speed, I … I won't last."

"You better! I want it in the ass, understood? I want it until I'm satisfied. Now, keep going, and don't you fucking come yet."

However, Laxus was forcing his hips to thrust in so fast, so vigorously, Freed began to cry. This much emotional need was overwhelming his heart, and the physical demand for pleasure was crumbling his resolve to hold back. Something was going to break at this rate.

"Laxus!" he sobbed.

"Shh. It's okay. You can come whenever you can't take more, but try to hold out. Try."

Freed nodded, straining to keep his desire at bay. He let Laxus pull on him, tried to focus on those rough fingers digging bruises into his ass and the silk tie giving rug-burns on his wrists with his squirming. If he could only focus on the pain…

But it felt so damn pleasurable!

"L-Laxus … can't … I can't…"

Warm lips fluttered against his ear and a godly voice commanded, "Fill my ass, Freed."

His cry of relief shook all the way to his soul, breaking all sorts of emotional barriers along the way. He had been so sad, so worried, so stressed, so angry, so depressed, so in love, all in just twenty-four hours.

"That's good. Fuck, I can feel that. I love feeling how your cock pulses inside me."

Freed had tears in his eyes, emotionally overwhelmed. He felt Laxus pull back, felt the cool air and loss of tightness around him. His hands were untied, and he fell limply to the bed. Just as he thought he could relax, his head was yanked up. He blearily opened his eyes to see Laxus in front of him, cock erect, dripping, and flushed with need.

"You did a good job earlier sucking quietly while I was reading. Time to make you really work for it."

Laxus held Freed's head still and slammed his cock into his mouth. Freed choked at the sudden force. He barely had time to swallow the surge in his stomach before the cock crashed in again, pummeling the back of his throat. Freed cringed with pain. He needed to tap out, but his hands were numb from the binds. He gagged, struggled to lift his hands, yet the cock kept pounding in. Finally he reached up enough to give three firm slaps to Laxus' thigh.

Immediately, the cock yanked out, and Freed curled over, spit and a slight bit of vomit mixed together and drooling out.

"Not done with you!" Laxus sneered.

"L-Lax- …"

"I warned ya, I ain't bein' gentle!"

Freed was grabbed and slammed head-down onto the pillows. He felt cold liquid on his ass, then two fingers rammed in. He cried out, but Laxus' hand smashed his head back down, smothering him into the pillow.

"Prepped yourself earlier?"

Unable to speak clearly with his face pressed down like that, Freed nodded.

"Good. I'm going in hard and fast."

Freed clenched the sheets and prepared for it. Laxus was not joking, either. His cock rammed in, and Freed screamed into the pillow with the sudden widening. Laxus did not slow down to let him adjust. He pounded in, yanking Freed's hips up when he began to sink. One arm kept Freed's waist raised, the other grabbed his Freed's forearm, pinning him down.

"Fuck, you're so good. So perfect. Too perfect. You aren't perfect though, are you?" he growled. "I know you. I know how dirty you are, how twisted you can be. I know how much you love sucking cock and having your ass filled. I _know_ you, Freed Justine. I know the bitch, the whore, the cocksucker, the slave. I know that side of you they'll never know."

Tears poured from Freed's eyes as he listened to the words stabbing him with truths. Laxus was the only person who knew the _real_ him, and it was not the pristine Justine in the magazine.

"You're pretty on the outside, but you're dark on the inside. Ain't that right? You've got a dark demon buried in you, and I'm the one who gets to release it."

"Laxus!" he screamed.

He leaned over and licked his ear. "Let me see it."

Freed arched and slammed his hips back to meet Laxus' thrust.

"Fuck, yes!" he hissed. "Ram against my cock."

Freed moved his hips again, thrusting back into him.

"That's right. You're not some perfect businessman. You're a whore who likes having a cock in his ass. So show me. Fuck yourself on my dick until I come."

"No … Laxus…"

"No?"

He grabbed Freed straight up, cock still in him, hulking arms yanking his slender legs apart, and carried him to the window. He pressed Freed up against the glass. It was cold, and he heard the window rattle with the pressure. Sweat and spent semen smearing the glass, and Freed gasped. This was so similar to the erotic dream he had, only it was him facing the view through a window. Laxus began to forcefully thrust into him while still holding him spread in his arms.

"Look out there," he whispered.

Freed cringed. If any neighbors walked by…

"The world out there thinks you're some angel. And you are. An angel of lust. A fallen angel. My incubus." Laxus chomped onto Freed's shoulder as he thrust into him, slamming him against the window. Freed howled at the sharp bite. "You're spent, I doubt you'll come a third time, so just enjoy the view. Enjoy that world out there while you feel the pleasure of _our_ world in here."

"Laxus," he sobbed. Anyone could see!

"Are you afraid?"

He bit his lip, but finally he nodded.

"Are you ashamed?"

Freed had no idea how to answer that. He was not ashamed of Laxus, or of them two of them. It was different, selfish. "I look … awful. Hideous. I'm … I'm so…"

"Sinful," Laxus breathed lustfully.

Freed cringed at hearing the erotic truth. "They can't see … they … no … can't see it … I can't show it. Not to anyone." He began to cry. All of his life, he had to be the perfect son. No one could know about the inner darkness.

Laxus carried him back to the bed and let Freed down onto all fours on the edge. He stood behind him, cock still inside. He heard Freed crying and stroked his spine.

"Then show me. Show all of it to me. I need to see it, Freed. I'm the only one who knows the real you. You can release all that darkness when you're with me. You can be hideous, sinful, breathtaking, shining with the most corrupt perfection, but only when you're with me."

Freed nodded, trusting him, knowing he could show Laxus all the darker layers of himself.

Laxus leaned over, kissed the middle of Freed's spine, and whispered, "I like when you're Freed the Dark."

Then he began to thrust fast, hard, and mercilessly. Freed arched up with a shuddering cry.

There were snarls behind him as Laxus half thrust, half yanked, pounding harder. "Need you so much. Fuck! Need you…"

"Laxus!"

Hearing Freed scream his name undid him. Laxus grunted and slammed in hard. "Shit … F-Freed!"

Freed felt the pressure filling him, felt warm liquid dripping down his thighs, and heard the animal-like grunts as Laxus gave short, final thrusts.

He was sobbing. He felt ashamed to be crying while in the middle of sex, yet he could not stop. Laxus was home, and he needed Freed. Needed him _this much_. He was not just a pretty face to Laxus. He was not merely a prestigious son and aspiring business leader. He was a boyfriend and lover. He was _needed_. He was not "third generation" or "next in line." He was Laxus' one and only.

"Freed?"

When Laxus pulled back, cum smeared down Freed's shaking thighs. He kept his face buried, not wanting to be seen like this, so tiny and pathetic.

"Come here."

Laxus pulled him up to the pillows, yanked the covers over them both, and curled his arms around Freed. He whispered something, Freed could not even hear it over his sobs, but it sounded soothing. Being back in these arms was solace to a soul so stressed out, he had felt ready to shatter.

"Freed?"

He heard his name being called a few times, but he was still an emotional mess.

Laxus caressed the shivering arms and kissed where he had bitten Freed's shoulder. "Did it hurt that much?"

Freed shook his head. There was no pain. There was simply a release from stress about the world outside.

"Don't hate me," he blurted out.

"Freed!" gasped Laxus.

"The magazine … the company … my family … who I am, who they want me to be, who I _need_ to be … I can't … can't handle it on my own. I'm not strong enough, not as strong as they think I am. I need you … I need _this_ … so please … just please, don't ever hate me for it."

Laxus' eyes softened. BDSM had a way of tearing down emotional dams. He realized this was one of those moments. _The business __heir__ Freed Justine_ sounded perfect when described on paper, yet right here was the reality. He was a man under unfathomable stress from family, coworkers, an international corporation, and now eyes all around the world would be on him. The global business community would have his name on their lips, and his progress would be scrutinized.

Laxus had no clue just how stressful that must be.

He leaned over and kissed Freed's cheek. "How could I hate you?"

Freed curled into a ball. "I'll screw up. I'll destroy the future you want, your freedoms … _your life_."

"Ya think living in this fancy-ass condo is screwing up my life? Freed, you saw where I was living before. You saw what sort of shit jobs I did. You _saved_ me." The image of his father chained to the wall returned. "You saved me from truly fucking up my life. I have a feeling you're gonna save me from something even worse in the future."

"Huh?"

Laxus suddenly reached around and held Freed with desperation, as if maybe this was the dream, one long and incredible fantasy, and when he woke up it would be to a lumpy bed, cobwebs, roaches, a noisy dump truck outside his window, returning to the yellow and red lights of the strip club's stage.

Freed sniffled up a runny nose and finally looked over to him. "Seriously, what happened? Just one day apart wouldn't make you like this."

Laxus' brow tensed. "I'm not ready to talk."

It was just a dream, after all. A silly dream. Why was it troubling him so much?

_"You're gonna hurt him bad one day, y'know."_

Laxus pulled back and looked over Freed. He yanked the blankets off and saw pink spots that would turn into bruises.

"Fuck. I really was rough."

Freed blushed. "I liked it. I was afraid you'd be too gentle."

"You'll have to wear long sleeves to hide the bruises on your arms."

"My suit jacket will hide them. At least you didn't aim for my neck."

"I figured that's stupid." He kissed down Freed's chest and torso, soothing the bites on the hip and inner thighs, and kept kissing until he got to Freed's feet. He kissed his feet, each adorable toe, and started to lick them.

Freed gasped with embarrassment. "L-Laxus!" He worried that his feet were sweaty and dirty.

Laxus ignored the protests and kissed back up, slowly, closing his eyes as his lips covered those long legs, the ankles, knees, thighs, hips. By the time he reached the groin, Freed was getting hard again. He glanced at the erection, then up to Freed, questioning if he wanted it taken care of.

"I … I don't think … I'll come."

"You don't need to," Laxus assured.

Laxus straddled him and slid down, once again savoring the feel of Freed's cock filling him. This time was slower, calmer. He rode atop of Freed while admiring him, indulging in the pleasure with no need for a frantic goal.

"Laxus," Freed hummed sleepily.

"You're getting soft."

"Tired."

Laxus chuckled at the sleepy cuteness and pulled off. He sat up and pulled Freed onto his lap.

"Can I?"

Freed curled up on his shoulder and nuzzled into his neck. "If you do all the work, I'll moan in your ear."

"You know that drives me crazy."

"Mmmm," he moaned, licking Laxus' earlobe.

"Fuck, you're so sexy," he whispered.

Freed lazily caressed all the sensitive spots he knew, feeling Laxus thrusting in. He was spent, but he felt happy to simply receive. Laxus paused, panting, sweat beaded on his forehead. He gazed at Freed and then snagged his hair, kissing him deeply while still thrusting into him.

"Look in the mirror," Freed whispered.

Laxus was sitting on the edge of the bed with Freed in his lap, and he saw the reflection across the room in the closet's mirror door. He gasped, seeing his cock embedded inside his lover.

"Watch yourself," ordered Freed.

"Who's wearing a slave collar?" Laxus snapped.

"An angel chained to a devil. You want me to smite you, you said. So watch yourself," he smirked, scraping his nails over Laxus' neck. "Watch the way you sin."

"Freed!" he hissed. Fuck, when he talked like that, Laxus felt ready to lose control.

"Look at your face. That's the snarling I get to see."

Laxus felt overwhelmed watching himself in the midst of sex, but he wanted to do as Freed asked.

"Does it feel good, sinning with an angel?"

"Freed!"

"Does my ass make you want to sin more?"

"S-stop … talking!"

Freed licked inside his ear and moaned heatedly. "Pour all your sin into me. I'll make you pure."

Laxus snarled and grunted as he came again, clutching so hard he left nail marks down Freed's spine.

"So good. Fuck … so good. Need you so much. Fuck it, Freed, I really need you."

Freed smiled passively and wiped the sweaty brow. "I'll always be right here."

Laxus pulled back, face in agony, and suddenly shouted, "I'm with you because you're _you_."

Freed blinked in confusion. What was this about?

"I'm with you because … because _I choose_ to be with you."

"Laxus?" he asked, slightly worried. "Seriously, what happened to you?"

He looked aside in anger at the outburst. He carefully pulled Freed off of his lap and laid both of them down on the bed.

"Laxus? What the hell happened at that meeting?"

He stroked the long, green hair. "Nothing. Nothing at all. Don't worry. No one said anything, no one flirted. Okay, one old lady flirted, but she was like eighty and deaf! Nothing bad. I'm just rambling to myself."

"Something happened," Freed insisted, too stubborn to let him brush this aside.

Laxus shook his head. "An epiphany, I suppose you'd call it. I realized … I need you. I'm nothing without you. God, I really needed you, and you weren't there."

"What … happened?" he demanded, eyes glaring.

"I told you—"

"Tell me the truth, Laxus Dreyar!" he shouted.

Laxus jolted at the authority in Freed's voice. However, he looked away. There was no way he could admit he had a nightmare. That sounded so lame! Yet it was more than a nightmare. That dream felt more like a warning, but Laxus was not sure yet what it portended.

"Got drunk off my ass, threw up, and I realized I really wanted you there," he said instead. "I'm like a goddamn baby without you. Fuck, you've ruined me, made me spoiled. I'm like a fucking clingy boyfriend now. Pathetic!"

Freed smiled in sympathy at his surely tone. He wrapped Laxus up in his arms and cuddled him. "My _spoiled-rich-boy_ ways are rubbing off on you."

"That's the damn truth," he grumbled. Laxus seriously doubted he could go back to living in a moldy, roach-infested tenement after lounging in such an opulent condo for so long.

"I'm allowed to spoil you, though," Freed teased. "And I'm happy that you feel clingy. It's nice to know I'm needed."

Laxus crushed him in a hug. "You're more than just needed, Freed. You're a goddamn _requirement_ in my life now. Fuck, I'm nothing without you. Nothing! I'm a freak and a whore."

"Don't say that," Freed snapped, stung that Laxus felt that way. "You're strong on your own. You've managed to get this far in life all by yourself, by your own strength, your own ingenuity, struggling against damning odds. That's something I've never had to do. It's really inspiring."

Laxus turned his face aside as he blushed. "Shut up," he mumbled.

Freed chuckled and cradled Laxus' head, soothing him like hurt animal. "Maybe things in the past were rough. Maybe … you've done things you regret." He thought about what his father had said, that Laxus himself may feel he needed to be redeemed for his life before meeting Freed. He hated to admit it, but it seemed his father was right. "But that's the past," he insisted. "Surviving through that made you stronger. It made you into the man you are."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Laxus mumbled.

He was a man who had dedicated a large portion of his life into researching how to torture, how to make pain last, how to intensify agony. He had resorted to selling sexual services. He had thought nothing of it at the time, plenty of men at the strip club did far worse for some extra cash, but seeing first-hand with Llewellyn how his clients went through their normal life, how families could be sundered by such debauchery, and now, having to sit in a room with a former client's wife, children, grandchildren, business associates, lawyers, friends, seeing the _reality_ of those fantasy plays … it really made Laxus regret his past.

How many marriages had he helped to destroy? Had he truly been nothing more than a fantasy tool, a shameful mar in people's lives? He had been using those old men to refine his techniques, but he was being used as well. He fed their lust. It was his face those men probably jacked off to on their own.

It made him sick to think about how many men in this area had fantasized over him. Not only in the past, but now too, working at the club. If it had been Freed, if he was the one people masturbated to … fuck! And now he was a poster boy for the Justine Corporation, featured in a business magazine, obviously used for his sensual looks, that pretty face, youth and strength, a beacon of hope for the corporation's future.

Women would swoon over him. Men, too. Of course they would! He was sexy as fuck! And Laxus hated it. He hated to think about people who would buy this magazine just to see that dashing green-haired man and have erotic dreams about this rich bachelor sweeping them away, fucking Christian-Grey-style!

Yet that was precisely what he had done in a far more blatant manner. All Freed did was pose for a few pictures. Laxus had danced as a stripper! He purposely played to gay fantasies.

How did it truly make Freed feel?

Why did he put up with it?

Was it just for the thrill Laxus gave him?

After all, before that fateful lap dance, Laxus had been nothing more than fapping material for Freed, a sexy man to fill his mind while his hand made quick work of his lusting needs.

It had obviously changed, but … how much?

Laxus knew he was utterly unworthy of a man like Freed. With that magazine now in print, he honestly could choose any person he wanted. People would flock to him even more. Influential people! People who could promote the company.

Laxus lent nothing to that part of Freed's life. If anything, he jeopardized it.

What role did he serve for Freed?

Just a bedroom accessory?

A soft hand rested on his shoulder, and worried eyes peered up into his face. "Laxus?"

He gazed down at Freed. He knew there was love between them, but … was that enough? People _knew_ who Laxus was! He liked to think it would not be a problem, yet it easily could bring disaster. If their relationship became public, so many highly influential people would have the perfect blackmail over the Justine family.

He was a threat to Freed, to his family, and to the business that they had spent three generations growing.

Again, he recalled what that twisted version of his father had said in the dream._ 'You're gonna hurt him bad one day.'_

Laxus realized, it might not even be physical harm. Every minute they spent together in public was potentially threatening. His damning past could destroy Freed one day.

He loved this man so much, though.

So much …

… that he didn't want to see him destroyed.

Freed squeezed his hand, looking truly worried by the silence.

There was an easy solution. Leave! Stand up, walk out, and protect Freed by not being around him.

That was something Laxus absolutely _could not_ do.

He had no answer, besides hiring someone to kill off every man he ever took as a client. Even that psychotic extreme was not a guarantee. Any man who ever watched one of his shows at the South Pole Club might recognize him. All the workers there: Jellal, Erza, Lyon, Gray, Bob. Every single person who saw his presentation at the exhibition.

It was too late. Too many knew Laxus' scarred face. Llewellyn, with all his money, could not hunt down and bribe each and every one.

Which still left him with an option he could not take: he could leave before the media found out.

Impossible! Freed was everything to him. Life without him would be bleak. When Laxus tried to imagine it, he realized a sickening truth. He would probably end up right back at the strip club, dancing for men, taking old masochists as clients, until the day he tracked down his father.

And after that? After his father was dead?

Nothing. He truly could not imagine a life after revenge. Not alone, at least.

With Freed, he could imagine a wonderful future, mornings waking up together, helping Freed dress in a tuxedo for some charity event, maybe adopting a child some day. He could have a future with Freed.

And he could also destroy his life, his family, his career … he could end up destroying Freed's future in a greedy pursuit of his own happiness.

"I'm a selfish bastard," he muttered, caressing the worried face. "I love you too damn much."

Freed smiled and leaned into his hand. "And I love you. Only you. Always!"

Hearing that made desires surge up in Laxus. Forget other people! He needed Freed, and Freed wanted him, and to everyone and everything else, _fuck it all!_

He grabbed the back of Freed's head and yanked him forward, crashing a desperate kiss onto his lips. Freed let out a muted yelp in surprise, but he shuddered at the sheer power of Laxus' passion.

Slowly, the kiss softened. Laxus wrapped his arms around Freed and laid down, resting on their sides, still kissing on the pillows. His hands reverently caressed the milky skin and slender waist. Everything about this man was divine, and he was a damn lucky bastard to get to have him.

Gradually, their lips fluttered back, noses rubbed instead, and they gazed at one another across satin pillows, each smiling with happiness.

"We need to clean up," Laxus muttered.

"I still have cum in my ass."

Laxus laughed and nuzzled Freed's cheek. "Me too. Quick wash-up?"

They went to the restroom to clean, then returned to bed holding hands. They stripped off the sheets and replaced the covers together, each working a side of the bed. Freed turned off the light, and they climbed into bed together, wrapped up close.

"I love sleeping with you," Laxus said, moving a strand of hair off of Freed's face.

"It was too lonely last night," Freed admitted.

"We'll go somewhere good to eat for breakfast and talk then. Tonight, I want to simply indulge in you." He leaned forward to kiss him again, then aimed for his neck, right where he knew Freed was sensitive. He got a shiver and soft moan, but Laxus' body was sated for now. He nuzzled against Freed's neck and inhaled the scent of his hair. "Missed you."

Freed felt Laxus snuffling around his neck and shoulder. He knew Laxus was still hiding something, he was really curious what happened, but Freed honored that he was not ready to talk yet. Besides, after such rigorous sex, he really needed sleep.

He remained quiet, enjoying the comforting warmth of Laxus' body, and gradually he heard heavy breathing. Freed kissed over the scarred eyebrow and laid his head down next to Laxus' to drift off to sleep.

**Next Chapter: "Dirty Money"**

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_A/N: The audio is mostly sexy noises, but it was soooo much fun to make. **chirb =dot= it/CDsC5g**  
_

_"fucking Christian-Grey-style!" - Yes, I made a "50 Shades of Grey" reference._

_Bible story time! This is for people unfamiliar with biblical tales, since I know not all of my readers ___have read the_ ancient Israelite legends._

_**Sodom ****and**** Gomorrah** – These two cities were so corrupt, God decided to wipe out the entire plain: cities, crops, cattle, newborn babies, everything. He sent two angels to spare Lot, the nephew of God's "chosen one" Abraham. The men of Sodom swarmed Lot's place, wanting to gangbang the angels. Lot offered for them to rape his virgin daughters instead. (Great parenting!) The Sodomites got mad that he was judging them and threatened to "do worse" to Lot than just rape him. The angels yanked Lot back inside the house before he got himself killed and struck blind all the men trying to break down the door. They told Lot to get his family out of the city before God razed it with fire and brimstone. As they fled, Lot's wife looked back and turned into a pillar of salt. Lot and his two daughters fled to the mountains where they lived alone in a cave. Frustrated by the lack of sex … I mean, concerned about passing on the family lineage, the sisters plotted to get their father drunk on wine, then they raped Lot on two consecutive nights so they could have his children. Great family! Why exactly did God think they deserved to be saved? Seriously, Genesis 19 is one of the most sexually perverse chapters in the Bible._

_**N****ephilim** – Interpretations vary, but commonly these are described as the children of angels and female humans: "The Nephilim were on the earth in those days—and also afterward—when the sons of God went to the daughters of humans and had children by them. They were the heroes of old, men of renown." They were part of the reason God sent a flood to wipe out humans. Yep __… according to the Bible, God caused a mass genocide of the human race just because angels got a little horny. ("Dammit, Castiel, I know they were fangirls but…")_

_**Schul** – Yiddish word for a Jewish synagogue (place of worship). Since Jewish places of worship were banned in Europe for centuries, they would hold meetings in a university classroom; thus, European Jews would say "I'm going to school" (school = schul) and it meant they were going to worship.  
_

_Oh, and just to clarify, Laxus isn't really religious. Like he said before, "I'm Jewish, but not that Jewish." His interpretation of biblical stories is therefore not theologically accurate. (Obviously!)_


	48. Dirty Money

_A/N: Audio drama recording: **chirb. it/JNaAqd**_

* * *

Chapter 48

**Dirty Money**

Laxus woke up to something gently stroking his forehead. He smiled to himself as he felt the slender fingers soothing his brow and petting up into his hair. Slowly, blinking with early morning light, he opened his eyes to the glorious view of Freed gazing down on him.

Laxus reached up and cupped Freed's cheek still creased from the pillows. This was heaven. Waking up like this every morning … he really could not think of anything more perfect.

They did not even need to say anything. They smiled at one another, both happy at being together to start the day, getting to spend the Saturday and the whole weekend together, just them, wrapped up in their own special world of love. Freed leaned over, Laxus threaded his fingers through his long hair to pulled him in, and their lips blessed the new day.

They took their time getting up, took turns using the bathroom to wash, chatted about the weather as they dressed, and finally left the condo holding hands. As they walked to Freed's Corvette, Laxus had a moment where he realized how utterly simple and domestic this was. They were lovers going out for breakfast on a Saturday morning.

_How did I get so damn lucky?_

Laxus had already picked where he wanted to eat and even set up reservations the day before to make sure they could get in without hassle. Freed was astonished at first. He knew the place from dinners with his parents, a truly top rated restaurant normally reserved for birthdays or other special occasions, not merely Saturday breakfast.

They entered and were showed to a booth set aside to give a bit of privacy. Laxus picked up his menu and studied it seriously. Freed glanced at the choices, knew what he wanted, and gazed across the table at Laxus. His brow was pinched. Why was he so quiet? That whole morning, they barely spoke at all. Freed was waiting, Laxus was uptight. What happened to him? What did he inherit? Why did he seem so changed if, according to him, nothing happened at the meeting of beneficiaries?

"The hell's quince jelly?"

Freed stifled a laugh at how serious he sounded. "Jelly made from quinces."

Laxus glared over the top of his menu, and Freed sputtered out a discrete laugh.

"It's a fruit. Like a tart pear."

"Eh, doesn't sound like enough. What's … duck … confit … benedict? Am I saying that right?"

"It's French. Silent T. Cone-fey, not con-fit."

"Whatever. It's like duck and eggs, right?"

"Have you ever had duck confit?"

"Hell, I've never had eggs benedict, but I see it on menus a lot."

"I think you'll like that one."

"Yeah? And what are you gonna have?"

"Florentine crêpes."

"Those any good?"

"I haven't had them here, but Nana's were good."

"Nana?"

"Our chef at home."

"If you grew up with a chef, how come you're so good at cooking?"

"Nana was like a grandmother. I hung around her in the kitchens whenever my parents weren't home, and she showed me how to make good meals."

"I'm guessing your parents weren't around a lot."

Freed merely shrugged.

"Maybe in the long run, that's a good thing. You make amazing dinners now."

Freed blushed and tucked his chin down. "Y-you cook well, too."

"I worked in the bar with my grandfather for a time. I learned basic pub grub: sandwiches, burgers, bratwurst. I was pretty damn proud of my green chili cheeseburgers."

"You'll have to make that some day." Freed took a sip of water. "Would you ever want to do that again?"

"Sure, I love a good barbecue."

"I mean, working in the Fairy Tail Pub."

Laxus looked confused by the question. "I've got a good job now."

Freed's brow tensed, and he looked aside.

"Is … is it not good anymore?" Laxus reached across the table and put a hand on Freed's arm in concern. "Hey, tell me if it's no good. Our agreement was that I'd work there only as long as you were okay with it."

"I'm okay," he muttered. "My father … he wants you to quit the club. He ordered…" Freed glanced around in paranoia, but they were alone in this part of the restaurant. "He said, no more kinks people might see, no public sex, never set foot in a club again—"

"He's right," Laxus cut in.

"No! He can't tell you what to do. He … he doesn't have that control over you. Over me, yes, but _not you_."

Laxus hushed him just as a waiter approached. Freed was in a fluster, but he ordered his Florentine crêpes with Earl Grey tea, Laxus ordered the duck confit benedict with a latte, and the waiter left them in an awkward silence.

"You're right," Laxus said quietly. "That bastard has no authority to demand anything of me. He has no control over my life. But he's got a point."

Freed looked up in protest, but before he could say anything, Laxus cut in.

"The eyes of the world will be on you, Freed. Your company looks up to you with pride. I'm damn proud of you, too." He had a tender smile; seriously, he was so proud of Freed for accomplishing so much so young. "You shine naturally, and people are gonna see you. Eventually, someone's going to notice that shadow standing behind you."

"You're not a shadow! You're … you're my boyfriend."

He reached across the table and stroked Freed's silver promise ring. "Lightning prefers the dark. I prefer being in the shadows. Still, someone's going to get a picture of us together, maybe eating out like this. Someone's going to recognize me, and hell's gonna break loose one day. If I know the sort of man your dad is, he's got contingency plans set up all over the place, maybe a few strings he can pull in the media. That only works if I'm living a good life, and as much as I can claim I'm just an electrician in a club, the fact is I run demonstrations on the side. Flare has no records of me doing that, she'd never admit to it if asked, and I trust the community that's there. We all know, you don't talk about who you see in the sex dungeons and fetish clubs. Ya just don't! That leaves the South Pole Club and my old clients. Jellal is easy to shut up, there's plenty of shit on him, and I'd bet your father knows precisely which blackmail works best to keep him silent, with a little money in his palm to make sure nothing leaks out. My clients … well…"

"Father wants the names of all of them."

Laxus shook his head. "That ain't happening."

"It's … it's for parties, to not invite them and—"

"I can look over the guest lists and just not show up if I see anything suspicious, but I don't give out names. That's a shit move, and your father should know better."

Freed closed his mouth and looked aside. He had a feeling Llewellyn may have wanted a list of Laxus' clients for more than parties. Blackmail worked well in business.

"I'll discuss that personally with your dad. Fact is, I doubt they will snitch. I can make sure they don't. Or, if my past is ever brought up, I can be honest. I worked in those sorts of clubs, I don't do it anymore, you were my angel who rescued a man drowning in sin."

Freed blushed at being called an angel in public. "That's not how it went."

"Fuck yeah, it was!" shouted Laxus.

Freed quickly hushed him and looked around nervously. One patron a ways down glanced over with a scowl, but otherwise it seemed no one was really listening in.

"Sorry," Laxus muttered, making sure his voice remained low. "Still, that _is_ how it went down, to me at least. I was living with roaches and eating instant ramen. Now I'm in a high class condo and eating frigging duck for breakfast. I was giving lap dances to old bastards. Now I'm in a serious, committed relationship. I had no thoughts of the future. Now … now I…"

He blushed and looked aside in frustration.

Now, he wanted a future with Freed.

Now, he could imagine getting married and growing old.

He never thought about that before.

"I at least have a _chance_ at a good future," he mumbled. "Hell knows what sort of life I might have been living if I had never met you."

He thought about that awful dream about torturing his father. Those sorts of dreams used to be his favorite, savoring the agony in that face he hated so much. Now, even a day later, it made him sick, as well as worried. That had been the only goal for his future less than a year ago. Nothing existed after that revenge. Now, as he looked across the table at Freed, he could imagine themselves old, the green hair turned white, that gentle face lined with noble wrinkles, those eyes still shining at him with even deeper love, decades of a life together.

He kept his voice low. "Last night, you said you need me."

Freed blushed, but he whispered back, "I do."

"And I need you. Desperately! I need you to save me from what I was, what I could end up becoming." He squeezed Freed's hand and stroked his thumb over the promise ring. In a barely audible whisper, he breathed, "I need you more than I could ever say, but I completely understand why your father is worried. If I was in his shoes … hell, I don't know if I'd chance it. If I was him, I wouldn't trust some strip dancer."

"Laxus!"

"Quit the club? Stop doing illegal shit? Be a little more aware of your public status? That's what I should have been doing all along. So long as we can be together, I don't care where I work."

A coy smile struggled up. "Maybe I can see about an opening in the company, like in security or a window washer."

Laxus raised an eyebrow. "Window washer?"

Freed gasped and instantly went pink. "I … I mean … g-groundskeeper? Maintenance? You know, something where they don't care that you never went to college. It's … it's not so bad … working there."

Laxus barked out a laugh. "No. No, it wouldn't be bad. Not at all. I wasn't kidding last night when I said I wouldn't mind being your bodyguard. I guess I could get training as a regular security guard first before taking on a job _that_ important. Not so sure about window washer, though."

"R-right," Freed stuttered, still flustered by that erotic dream.

Just then, their food arrived. Laxus looked down at the plate set in front of him and barely held back exclaiming in a crude way. He looked across the table, hoping Freed would guide him in how to react to food that looked too good to eat.

"The presentation is wonderful. Smells divine," Freed said in praise.

"Agreed. Can't wait to try it," Laxus said, hoping that was enough.

"More tea, please," Freed added.

The server left to get the tea, and Freed daintily unfolded his napkin. Laxus glared down at the plate.

"Is something wrong?" asked Freed.

"I have no clue how the hell you eat this," he admitted in a surly grumble. "Do I use a fork? A spoon?"

Freed stifled a laugh. "You really have _never_ eaten eggs benedict?"

"I was lucky if I could afford an Egg McMuffin, let alone this shit."

"Watch your language," Freed schooled primly. "Cut into the yolk, let it mix with the Hollandaise sauce, then cut a bite-size of the egg, duck, and bread. Just one bite size piece at a time. Don't go slicing it all into pieces like a child. And not huge chunks. Take time to enjoy each bite."

"Which fork?"

"Dear, it's breakfast."

"Oh. Only one here. What are the two spoons for?"

"The one on the outside is a teaspoon."

"Gotcha! All right, let's see what I've been missin' all my life."

Freed watched, not realizing he was holding his breath as Laxus cut open the egg, let the yolk drain into the yellow Hollandaise sauce, cut some of the duck confit, and ate a bite. These were the sorts of meals Freed had grown up with, never thinking twice about it. It was not until he was a teen that he realized _normal_ people did not eat such things every day. Laxus was taking a taste of _his world_, and Freed really hoped he liked it.

Laxus chewed, swallowed, and stared down at his plate in silence.

"Well?" Freed whispered in anticipation.

Laxus pouted as he glared at the meal. "Food should not be allowed to taste this damn good."

Freed burst into a smile.

"What're you so happy about? Ya look like you cooked it yourself."

"I'm just glad that you like food like this."

"This shouldn't even be classified as _food_. It's something beyond that. What is this called again? Confit? Do they make this stuff in other meals?"

"It's just a way to fix duck. It's often used in lunch and dinner as well."

"I wanna try it again."

"We can go out to eat another time," Freed said with eagerness.

"Not too often. I'll seriously get spoiled."

The waiter came up with Freed's tea. "Another latte, sir?"

"Yeah, thanks." Laxus cringed, realizing that was hardly a formal way to speak, but the waiter hardly seemed to notice. Maybe a little casualness was actually okay. "I need about five cups of this tiny coffee. I'm guessing they don't use mugs."

Freed smiled at him. "Doubt it. You can keep asking for more, but you'll probably be charged for each cup."

"That's fine, it's not really even _my_ money. How's the crap?"

"Crêpe."

"Whatever."

"It's wonderful."

They fell silent as they ate. Freed glanced across the way at Laxus and smiled bashfully. He remembered the first time they went to an up-scale restaurant. Laxus was utterly helpless. Now, although he was unfamiliar with the food, he had improved on his manners. Besides a few outbursts, his profanity was curbed. He sat up straight, no elbows on the table, placed his utensils properly when not in use, and ate with small bites. There was no way he could have learned this much so quickly without looking up etiquette.

Freed had a moment envisioning Laxus sitting at home while he was working at the office, secretly reading through etiquette blogs. He almost wanted to laugh. Still, Laxus was putting in effort to learn Freed's world. That … was really sweet!

"Isn't this place too much? You usually hate restaurants like this."

"I wanted to treat you. I'm paying this time. Gotta put that money to use."

"The inheritance?"

Laxus rolled his eyes and drank some coffee. "Hush money, plain and simple. The old man left a letter with his lawyer, something the rest of the family didn't know about. Basically, I get the money, funds delivered straight into my bank account, but only if I sign a waiver that if I snitch about what I did, the estate will sue me for the same amount. I'm not gonna snitch, so I signed the agreement."

"How much did you get?"

"Too much," he muttered. "The old man really wanted to keep his untarnished reputation after death."

"Laxus, you should set that money aside, put it into savings, be more economical—"

"Freed," he said, sharply interrupting. "This money … it's _client_ money. Dirty money. I swore I'd never do shit for money again."

Freed saw the anguish in his face and felt sorry for him. "You didn't do anything," he whispered. "I mean, the guy is dead."

"He used to do this. Most of them did. After a night, I'd get hush money, a few hundred in cash usually. They'd say stuff like it's thanks for my hard work or in appreciation for my loyalty, but it was a bribe to shut my mouth. Still, it's like he's _thanking_ me from beyond the grave, and that's scary as hell." Laxus glared down at the plate. "I don't want this money. At all! I thought maybe it'd be cool to get a little extra funds, maybe buy … something…"

He honestly had thought that, if it was enough, he could buy Freed an engagement ring. Then he realized _why_ he was getting that money, and it sickened him. He would buy Freed a ring from money he made honestly, not some inheritance from an old bastard he used to flog.

"I don't want it," he whispered. "I almost didn't sign, but then they'd think I was planning to rat them out, and that wasn't the reason at all. I didn't want to cause a scene with the lawyer by turning down the deal. Besides, I went all that way, left you alone for a night … I wanted compensation, at the very least. I'll spend it on food and booze, stuff I can shit out, because that's what this is. Shit money!"

"Laxus!" Freed scolded, mostly because language like that was inappropriate for a high class restaurant. "I have a better idea. You don't want that money, right?"

"It sickens me," he sneered.

"Then put it to something positive, something that makes you feel good."

"Blue Label," he stated.

Freed rolled his eyes. "I don't mean whiskey. I mean charity. Isn't there a cause you want to support? Cancer research, wildlife conservation, Habitat for Humanity, the Trevor Project, ALS, battered women and children…"

Laxus' eyes shot up to him at that.

"I know of a shelter for abused children and battered spouses. We'll pay for the meal, you can buy a bottle of whiskey if you want, but put the rest to charity. It's a tax write-off as well, so you get the money back but more honestly."

"Money back from the government is always good," Laxus muttered. "All right! But no booze. This money goes to kids. That fucker treated his family like shit in life, so his dirty money can go to help abused families now."

Freed grinned. "That's the spirit! But seriously, stop cursing."

"Sorry," he muttered, taking a drink of coffee to cover over his mistake. "Thanks, Freed. That's a brilliant idea. I expect that much from you."

Freed blushed at the praised and hid his face by sipping some more tea.

**Next Chapter: "Shelter From the Storm"**

* * *

_A/N: I made a spoof on Tumblr a while back. You can take it however you like._  
_wildrhov =dot= tumblr =dot= com/post/100112423354_

_Oh my gawd, I did too much research into gourmet dining for this, and then I went a little crazy cooking meals for a few days. I rarely, VERY rarely, eat at fancy restaurants, and I don't think I've ever been to a French restaurant. I have never had duck, and I'm allergic to eggs, so I've never eaten these meals. __It was still fun to look up fine dining dishes._


	49. Shelter From the Storm

_**TRIGGER WARNING**: Mentions of child and spousal abuse. Be warned._

* * *

Chapter 49

**Shelter From the Storm**

After the meal, Freed drove them to what looked like some small apartments. He pulled into a visitor parking spot, and almost immediately there was a heavy-set woman with bushy black hair and a crocodile-tooth necklace standing by the car with a glare that could kill. However, Freed stepped out of the car and gave her a polite nod.

"We're here to see the Matron about a donation."

"And who are you?" she demanded.

"Freed Justine, son of Liberty Justine of the Free Women Now organization. We've supported this facility since its founding."

She glared as she looked at him up and down. "I know Liberty Justine. All right, I _guess_ it's okay."

Freed again tipped his head. "Your diligence against male visitors is understandable."

"And who's he?" She leered at the blond stepping out of the car.

"My partner, Laxus Dreyar. It'll be him making the donation today."

"Gotcha! The name's Risley Law," she said, now smiling, her tough demeanor instantly jovial. "Welcome to the Mermaid Heel Shelter."

The pudgy woman led them inside. Laxus glanced around silently. It really did look like normal apartments, shielded on the outside with brick walls and rose bushes, a single secured door leading to a corridor, which led to a central courtyard. All of the apartments opened inward to this court, where there was a swimming pool, a small playground, and a shaded spot with a barbecue and benches for picnics. The apartments went up two floors, and women stood on porches watching children run around the courtyard. Children stopped to watch them, mothers whispered together, and the court fell quieter at the arrival of the newcomers.

"The Matron is through here to the next building," Risley informed them.

They followed a brick path through the miniature park and through another corridor on the other side. This one opened to an annexed building, five stories tall, more clinical in appearance. They entered, and Laxus realized this was not a place to live, but a business building. He even saw a sign pointing people to a medical clinic.

Risley brought them to an elevator that took them to the top floor. They continued to follow her to an office at the end of the corridor. She knocked and pushed the door open.

"Miss Kagura, the son of the Justine family is here to make a personal donation."

A stern-faced woman stepped forward, Japanese with long black hair tied with a white ribbon, a crisp white suit with a red necktie, and a perpetual glare to her dark eyes. She walked up to Freed, but instead of shaking his hand, she bowed formally. Freed bowed back, obviously trained to greet someone this way.

"Kagura Mikazuchi. I was not informed of your intentions."

"It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. My partner here has come into some funds and wishes to donate to your charity."

Kagura looked from Freed to Laxus, then back again. She eyed Freed up and down with harshness in her gaze.

"Shall I show you around?" she offered.

"If you are too busy—"

"I want to show what your donation will support," she insisted. "I feel that's important to our patrons. The issue of domestic violence is too often hidden from society. It shouldn't be! It has visible consequences, so it should be visible and treated with utmost seriousness."

Laxus took a step forward. "I wanna see it for myself. I want to know what you guys do to help."

Kagura stared at him for a long time, her eyes flicking, noticing details about this behemoth man in a suit and tie with wild hair and a scar on his face. Finally, she nodded and led them out.

"We are one of three shelters in the city, and I hate to say it, but we're constantly overcrowded. Here, an abused partner can seek help and escape to somewhere kept confidential. Average people do not know what we are. Most of the safe houses are publicly portrayed as merely apartments and businesses. That's why Risley was so on guard. We don't get personal visitors that often."

"My apologies, then," Freed said humble. "I knew of this place from when I accompanied my mother to its opening."

"Missus Justine. She was a vocal advocate for us, and we're eternally grateful."

Laxus leaned over to Freed's ear. "You never told me your mother supported stuff like this."

"Well, Mother does lots of charity work. She helped to start Free Women Now, which gives free legal support to women facing domestic abuse, child support problems, gives financial options to former prostitutes, and works with authorities to stop human trafficking."

"Damn! I respect your mom a lot more now."

Kagura led them to the fourth floor. There were rooms with people busy on computers, shouting over the phone, and some of the offices showed name plaques with names suffixed with JD, LL.M, and Esq. Lawyers! Lots of them.

Kagura narrated throughout the whole tour. "Mothers bring their children here, and the shelter provides them with free legal help as they bring their abuser to justice. Some of these women, now without a husband to support them, simply can no longer afford their rent. Here, they are not only given a roof, bed, and meals, but job training, computer skills, and assistance in finding employment, usually a work-at-home online job so they can care for their children but still be able to afford living on their own."

The third floor had various vocational classrooms, filled with computers to train the women how to use the internet to their financial advantage. Another had flower arrangements—apparently they just had a class on that skill—and another had various crafts and sewing projects, teaching some women to use their artistic creativity to sell items on Etsy and Ebay. Kagura explained that single mothers often had to have some sort of secondary income just to afford an apartment big enough for children.

The second floor had psychological counseling rooms, which they were not allowed to visit since they were all full.

"Both spouses and children get counseling, group help … these people were broken badly enough to seek us out. The person they loved betrayed them in the worst way. They have a long road ahead to piece together their emotions."

"This was one of my mother's main focuses," Freed told her, looking sadly at all the closed doors, realizing that inside each was a person recovering from shattered trust. "My grandmother suffered silently from my grandfather's alcoholism for years. She tried to escape once when my mother was twelve, but he found them, dragged them back, and hired guards to make sure they did not escape again. He practically imprisoned her and my mother. It culminated with their deaths. My mother was in college, a real activist, got arrested for protesting against the patriarchy. When she was released from jail, Grandfather was furious. I wonder what he hated more: that she was arrested, or that she felt women deserved equality. According to my mother, though … it got bad. He was drunk, there was a fight, Grandfather began to hit my mother, Grandmother fought him off to defend her. She was a tiny woman, but she stood in his way with a frying pan, defending her child. He knocked her aside, screamed that both she and my mother should _learn their place_. Then he said he was going to bring her to the police for hitting him, said he could get her institutionalized for insanity. The sad thing is, with his money and influence, he probably could have done precisely that. He dragged her to the car, forced her inside, used the seatbelt to practically tie her up, drove off … and crashed into a semi-truck. Both died. Mother always felt that if Grandmother had escaped that toxic environment—if she had a safe place, somewhere my grandfather could not track her down—maybe they'd both be alive. That abuse affected her, still does at times, I can see it. No one in my family is allowed to get drunk. At any family parties, if someone shows obvious signs of inebriation, they are escorted out before Mother can see it. It triggers flashbacks."

"How does she deal with your brother?" asked Laxus.

Freed laughed bitterly. "She doesn't. She avoided even seeing him through his alcohol phase. Apparently Bickslow looks a lot like my grandfather. It really terrifies her, seeing him turn out this way. Those scars … they're in your soul! You never fully heal, but you can learn to keep on going day by day. She wants these victims to have that chance, to learn to live with the scars and continue advancing."

Laxus clasped Freed on the shoulder and smiled down at him. "I really do have a new respect for your mother."

He smiled gladly. His mother might be skittish and opportunistic, but she was also a strong woman who struggled through many trials in the past.

At the end of this hall was a room under construction. Freed glanced inside and saw the skeletal beginning of a massive classroom.

"We had a few incidences with the abusive partner attempting to kidnap the children from school. The mothers pulled the children out of school, we got them tutors, but we decided we could do a lot of good for these kids by simply building a classroom where they can feel safe and learn at their own pace. Since some of these children exhibit signs of PTSD, normal schooling simply is not recommended. Once this is finished, we can provide a multi-grade schoolhouse, like in times long ago. Each child will get homework based on their grade, and students can work with tutors as well as psychologists if they have troubles with keeping in the moment long enough to focus on the assignment."

"Those kids definitely need that," Laxus said, his brow tensed. If he had time to adjust, time to get over the flashbacks of horror, and counseling to integrate back to a normal life, perhaps he would have done well enough in school to attend college. Perhaps he would have gotten a normal job. Perhaps his entire life would have been different.

"These children are often moved to different schools anyway, but the abusive parents somehow find them. Some survivors of abuse have to _vanish_ just to escape their partner, and police have to get involved. We keep these safe houses off the radar so the people here can live without fear. However, children attending public school are more exposed than a parent who stays in here receiving vocational training. Even if they've come here from another city, if the abusive parent is on the loose, the children are often the first ones found, and attempted kidnapping is far more common than anyone wants to admit. It's happened five times to our guests in just this past year."

Laxus made a grunt. That was pretty much what happened to him. He could not remember if he went with his father willingly, trusting "daddy" to pick him up from school, but he found out later on that his mother had no clue why he vanished for months. She had panicked and organized searches for him, while Laxus was kept caged away like a lab rat by his father.

With goosebumps prickling him, Laxus reached behind his shoulder and traced over the etching in his skin. 4-6-2.

A soft hand touched his arm. "Laxus?" Freed whispered in worry.

He jolted out of dark memories and looked down into those turquoise eyes. They calmed him and chased away the darkness. He took his hand away from the branded numbers and patted Freed's shoulder.

"Yeah," he muttered. "I'm fine."

Gradually, they made their way to the ground floor. Kagura showed them through the medical clinic, and although she avoided showing any current patients, she showed some of the X-rays of the broken bones and concussions the battered victims suffered, pictures of lacerations and swollen faces, deep bruises, all graphic realities of domestic abuse.

After that, Freed asked if he could get some fresh air. They strolled out to the courtyard, but Kagura warned them not to interact.

Laxus watched the children running around. Many had been there for a while, long enough to smile again as they chased each other and played on the slide and swings. A few still had bruises from the abuse they had suffered until finally arriving at this shelter. Many of the children sat in the shade watching the others with hollow eyes that Laxus recognized too well. He had looked that way in the mirror for years after his father did those horrific experiments on him.

One of the helpers slipped up to Kagura. Although she whispered, Laxus overheard. There were a few women feeling too nervous about having these men around.

Kagura tried to be as courteous as possible as she led them back through the business building and out a side door. There was another building, just a regular house from the appearance, no different from the other houses along the street. However, as they entered, Laxus saw that this was yet another safe house, this time for men.

"They are kept away from the women due to psychological reasons on both sides," explained Kagura. "It often takes a man or woman time to trust the other gender again, so we purchased this house, thanks to generous donations. We've found it best for the men to stay together here, although the children usually mingle in the courtyard."

"Even the dudes have to leave like this?" asked Laxus, honestly shocked as he saw men with children, one healing from a head wound, another with a scab across his face from a knife wound.

"Generally, women are perceived as the main victims of domestic abuse. However, 57% of domestic violence is against men. Most men do not report it, fearing humiliation or, worse, that the wife may twist the situation into being his fault and claim to be the victim. Still, we are getting more and more homosexual men seeking shelter from abusive partners."

"It takes a brave man to admit they need help," Freed said in awe.

Kagura looked at him closely. "Yes. A brave man. Society frowns upon men who admit they need help. Boys are taught from an early age never to hit girls. Therefore, men feel they can't even fight back when a woman become violent against them.

"Abuse is a serious issue that affects all people, not just women. Women don't realize how emotionally and mentally abusive they can be, acting in a manipulative or controlling manner, calling into question a man's masculinity, and believing it's okay to hit a man, but not okay for a man to hit a woman, even in self-defense. Some women falsely believe they are _justified_ because they are _acting out against the patriarchy_. That's disgusting and a shame to all women! Being a social justice warrior does not make domestic abuse okay.

"A woman who acts controlling or aggressive toward her partner, stalks him in real life or online, acts jealous of women who are platonic friends, accuses him of cheating with no justification, demands he stop seeing friends or family, prevents her partner from going to work, dictates how he may spend money, slaps or kicks her partner in anger, forces him into sexual acts against his will—which includes belittling his masculinity in pursuit of physical pleasure when he has stated he does not want sex—and threatens him by claiming she will accuse him of abuse or rape: these are _all_ acts categorized as domestic abuse."

Laxus grunted. "I see that shit on TV all the time: jealous women, accusing all other women of hitting on their guy, seeing anyone with boobs as rivals. TV makes it seem like it's normal, feminine, even cute."

"It's not!" Kagura insisted, looking affronted. "It's a sick double standard in society that needs to be banished. They are a disgrace to the very _cause_ of feminism. Abusive bitches, nothing more!" She suddenly caught herself. "Ah. Sorry. I … I really do apologize."

Freed and Laxus glanced at one another. There was something a little _too_ personal with that small rant.

"Ahem … Three in ten women and one in ten men in the U.S. have experienced rape, physical violence, or stalking by a partner. However, men have much higher rates of being victims of domestic terrorism."

"Domestic … _terrorism_?" Freed asked, shocked by such a volatile term.

"That's precisely what it is. Toxic aggressiveness and controlling behavior, psychological manipulation bordering on brainwashing, unfounded jealousy, evoking fear through stalking behavior, asserting terror through emotional tyranny. Post-breakup violence, which is often not an option on surveys about abuse, leans heavily toward women being extremely violent, from destruction of property to even attacking their ex or the person who replaced her. Worse, women are more likely than men to murder their own children. 70% more likely than men."

"Horrible!" Freed physically shuddered at the idea, yet he realized there had been many news reports of women who killed their children, sometimes due to anger against the father.

"Whereas acts of physical violence are more common against women, acts of mental and emotional abuse are higher against men. However, since many women have to compensate for being smaller and weaker, women are more likely to turn to physical instruments: knives, bats, chairs, and guns. From smacking a man in the head with a frying pan, purposely burning him by pouring hot coffee in his lap, throwing a chair or dishware at him, to worse acts like cutting off his genitals or shooting him, women who act out in physical violence are more likely to turn to a weapon rather than fists."

Laxus looked again at the man with his head wrapped, and the other healing from a knife wound to the face. "Women are scary things," he mumbled. "Oh … sorry. I mean…"

"No, you're justified," Kagura said, looking down sadly. "Domestic violence in lesbian relationships is actually _higher_ than in straight relationships, with 44% of lesbians having been physically assaulted by a partner, and 26% of gay men."

"That high?" Freed exclaimed.

Kagura bit her lip and nodded. "Because it's a woman slapping another woman, people are more prone to call it simply _a cat fight_ rather than domestic abuse. Because a man may pressure another man that if he's truly gay, he should have sex, it's seen as just _establishing male dominance_, not coercing someone into unwanted sex. Society is so quick to leap to the aid of women abused by men, but not women abused by other women, or men abused by women, or transgender people, and others who may suffer mentally, emotionally, and physically at the actions of their partner. From threatening to out a person if they don't obey, to accusing them of betrayal if the person is bisexual and leaves a partner for someone of another gender, the abuse is real, and it can be mentally damaging. When it turns dangerous, that's why places like Mermaid Heel exist. In fact, we're getting so many men and non-binary individuals seeking shelter here, we may need a second house."

That was definitely a push for a donation, and Laxus almost laughed at how obvious she was.

Kagura went on about the abuse statistics in homosexual men a bit longer than Laxus figured she normally would have done for a normal person. He knew she was eying him and Freed a little too closely, and it was making him uncomfortable."

"We should get going. Who do I write the check out to?"

She led them back to the office building and to someone who dealt with the finances of the facility. Laxus pulled out a checkbook, wrote an amount Freed could not see, but definitely there were a few zeros at the end of the number.

"Use that for the kids, or a gay shelter, or whatever you want. Just make sure it goes to the victims and nothing else."

Kagura looked affronted. "All donations go toward the people here, and we are mostly a volunteer staff."

"Yeah, good." He looked around again. "Ya got a restroom?"

"Please, use the one in our office. There's a lavatory past the last door on the left."

He walked off, feeling the effects of the large meal and five lattes. While he was gone, Kagura slipped up closer to Freed. He had drifted away to give Laxus privacy while making his donation, and now he stood by a window watching the children on the playground. He looked over as the matron approached.

"Is he done?" he asked.

"He made his donation, and we're printing up the receipt for a tax deduction. Um, I know this isn't my place, but … you said he's your partner. You didn't mean _business_ partner, did you?"

Freed laughed bashfully. "It's that obvious, huh?"

"So are the bruises on your arms."

Freed's smile froze and cracked. Kagura's eyes never wavered.

"I saw them from the start, the moment you walked into my office. I almost thought I was about to deal with another male guest seeking asylum, not the son of one of our most generous benefactors trying to make a donation. That's why I delayed for so long. I was hoping something would slip."

Freed bristled. "Nothing _slipped_ because there's nothing wrong."

"Did he put those bruises on you?"

Freed's mouth pinched tightly.

"I've been working here long enough. I know what to look for. Now, I don't know why he would make a donation here if—"

"He's _not_ … like that," Freed said defensively, yet he unconsciously grabbed his arm where Laxus had gripped him so tightly last night, he left bruises behind. "Look, he's here because he was hurt as a child and he wants to make a difference in these children's lives."

Contritely, she pointed out, "Many people abused as children grow to be abusive as adults. He may be trying to reconcile for his past without realizing that he's just as—"

"I said he's not like that!" Freed shouted, and a few startled workers looked over.

Kagura gave Freed a moment to cool off, but her gaze never faltered. "I'm sorry. Like I said, it's not my place, but I noticed the size and shape of those bruises, and I see them a lot here."

"He isn't … look, this … it's not—"

"Defensiveness and denial are often signs."

"This isn't denial, ma'am."

She still stared at him without backing down. "He placed those bruises on you. He hurt you. Maybe he apologized, maybe he was drunk or didn't realize his own strength, but it's still domestic abuse."

Freed turned away, struggling with how to defend himself without outing them both out as BDSM kinksters. This woman knew his mother, after all. She could shame the Justine family if word slipped out.

Kagura sighed and shook her head. "I hate the idea of letting you walk out of here only to return to a toxic, abusive environment, but I can't stop you. You know our number, or if not here since he knows the location, there are other shelters, some exclusively for men."

Just then, Laxus stepped out and looked around for them. "Freed," he called out, waving a receipt to show they were done.

Kagura lightly touched Freed's shoulder and whispered, "Remember: you're not alone!"

He had seen the _You're Not Alone_ posters all through this place. Still glaring, he moved quickly past her and stomped on ahead of Laxus, leaving the shelter behind.

As he marched through the courtyard, he shook his head. He should not be angry. She definitely meant well. It was logical to see bruises like those and assume manhandling was involved. In all honesty, one of the only things that separated BDSM from domestic abuse was the issue of intent and consent. Blurting out that he _liked_ when his partner left him bruised was not an option for a man in his position.

Although it was purely confusion and honest altruism, Freed still felt like he had been insulted, his lifestyle called abusive, and his boyfriend accused of domestic violence.

Laxus approached the car to see Freed already seated with his hands clenching the wheel. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Just fine," he grumbled. He was mad, but he was not sure where this anger was surging from. He knew his relationship with Laxus was not abusive; there was no need to feel mad.

So why were his hands shaking?

As soon as Laxus buckled in, Freed peeled out of the driveway. He normally drove slowly for Laxus' carsickness, but just then he put that Corvette to the test.

Laxus glanced over, but he said nothing. What happened? What had that woman said while he was in the restroom? He wanted to ask, but as the car merged into traffic, he honestly felt like if he opened his mouth, he might throw up.

**Next Chapter: "Storm From the Shelter"**

* * *

_Audio: chirb =dot= it/vAPKKh_

_I'm proud that I managed to include people from Mermaid Heel into this universe. They would make the best women's shelter matrons._

_ **JD, LL.B, and Esq.** – lawyer titles; "J.D." stands for "juris doctor" and is the degree received when the attorney graduates from law school. "LL.M" stands for the secondary degree of Master of Laws. "Esq." stands for "Esquire," a term used in the United States to designate a person who is permitted to practice law._

_I am a survivor of an abusive relationship. It got mentally, emotionally, and finally physically abusive, culminating with a sexual assault. This subject is therefore sensitive to me, and I wasn't sure if I could write about it without burying myself in depression and flashbacks. I hope it did not come across as too "preachy."_

_I know some readers are going to shout that I took a few jabs at a certain anime stalker. If you said to yourself "Hey, stop picking on Juvia" then you subconsciously realize she is a perpetrator of domestic abuse. Her in-canon personality is a classic case of erotomania, mentally and emotionally eroding Gray's emotional strength by oscillating between aggressively obsessive behavior (she has physically attacked Lucy for being a love rival) and her "cutesy" bipolar flip. One of the things that disturbs me about Fairy Tail is that Hiro Mashima downplays the issue of stalking, makes it cute and funny. Although a work of fiction, that could mislead young girls into thinking that stalking is okay, "she's just so in love with him," "she's socially awkward" (all real excuses people have told me), and it leads young boys into thinking that having a female stalker should be seen as erotic, a prelude to dating, and they should attempt to befriend their stalker, put up with her behavior, as opposed to taking legal actions against someone who is harassing. Here in Oregon, stalking carries a sentence of jail time plus a quarter million dollars in fines. We do not tolerate it here! Let's face it, if Lucy had a stalker, or Levy, or Wendy, we would hate the guy and hope that one of the Dragon Slayers beats the crap out of the perv, but when it's a female doing the stalking, it's "cute." A sick and dangerous double standard. I am honestly disappointed with Mashima-sensei for making light of a VERY serious issue in a manga aimed at youths whose opinion of domestic abuse can be swayed by how an adult draws his characters. Being a work of fiction does not excuse promoting very real issues of harassment. That's precisely why I passively pointed out that Juvia's actions are categorized as domestic abuse. They are not something to tolerate. Ever! I've written about the issue in the past._

_wildrhov __=dot= __tumblr __=dot= __com/post/136676172659/arent-you-a-little-harsh-on-juvia_

_Abusive partners kidnapping children is horribly common. My cousin escaped a violent marriage but had to move across the country five times due to her husband attempting to kidnap the children from school. As if kidnapping is a better crime than child support evasion! She lived near us during their 4th move, and I frequently went camping with her kids. Then their father found them once again and attempted to attack the son. (As if frigging MURDER is better than child support evasion … fucker!) The boy fought back and escaped, the father vanished before police could capture him, and my cousin packed up, moving to North Dakota into the middle of nowhere._

_"You're not alone" is on many posters against domestic abuse. "Three in ten women and one in ten men in the U.S. have experienced rape, physical violence, and/or stalking by a partner," and 44% of lesbians have reported domestic abuse in their lifetime. That means there are many people out there, regardless of gender, who have gone through it. So don't think you have to suffer in silence. If a partner acts in any sort of abusive, harassing, or manipulative ways, it's NOT love._

_BDSM is not abuse, but it's plagued with misunderstanding. I'll get into that more next chapter._

_If you are a victim of abuse—be it physical, emotional, or mental—escape that toxic relationship before it turns violent._

_thehotline __=dot= __org _

_abuseintervention __=dot= __org_

_kars4kids =dot= org/blog/domestic-violence-and-abuse-youre-not-alone/_

_mayoclinic__=dot= org/healthy-lifestyle/adult-health/in-depth/domestic-violence-against-men/art-20045149 _

_breakingthescience =dot= __org/SimplifiedDataFromDHHS =dot= php_


	50. Storm From the Shelter

Chapter 50

**Storm From the Shelter**

All through his drive from the shelter, Freed kept repeating to himself that he should not feel angry. Kagura meant well. She saw cases of horrific abuse every day. Of course she would fear he was facing the same issue. Her job was to _not_ turn a blind eye, to reach out and help those in need. Society needed people like that.

Society also needed to realize that sometimes this was a desired arrangement, carefully sculpted out, limits set, barriers to protect oneself physically, mentally, and emotionally, and it could be done with affection.

The ride home was quiet except for the flute music playing over the speakers. Laxus had seen a strange look on Freed as soon as he stepped out of the office, but he did not know what it meant. Freed normally followed a step behind Laxus or right by his side. He rarely rushed ahead. He normally asked every five minutes, to the point of annoyance, if Laxus was feeling sick and needed to pull over. This time, his jaw twitched with how tightly he clenched his teeth.

"Freed?" he finally asked.

His fingers tightened on the wheel. "I'm driving."

"I can see that," he muttered.

Laxus tried to look out the window and ignore the tension, but that made him ill.

"Freed?"

"Not now!"

He frowned and looked away. Freed never snapped at him. Ever! At least, not like that, not with anger inflected in his voice. After a few minutes of this silence, Laxus finally asked, "Can you pull over?"

Freed jolted in concern. "Are you feeling sick?"

"Yeah, something like that," he grumbled.

"Uh, okay … um … here!" He eased the Corvette into an empty spot along the busy boulevard. "It's metered parking, but so long as we keep the car running it should be okay. Do you need anything?"

Now stopped, Laxus lashed out. "What I _need_ is for you to tell me what the hell is going on?"

Freed froze in confusion. "What?"

"What is _wrong_ with you?"

"What do you mean?" Freed cried out. "I'm worried about your carsickness."

"I mean how you're acting." His eyes softened and his voice lowered. "Did something happen? Something at that shelter?"

Freed flinched and pulled back. He looked down at the steering wheel with a scowl.

"Is it from seeing all those kids?" asked Laxus. "I mean, I know it's hard to see that—"

"No! I … I mean, yes, it is hard. To think anyone would do that to a kid!" He shook his head in disgust at the idea. "But this isn't about that."

"Then what's wrong?"

Freed kept his eyes averted, but he held out his arm. "This!"

Laxus saw the reddish purple marks. "What about it?"

"The bruises."

"Yeah, I got a bit rough. Sorry 'bout that."

"The lady at the shelter … _she_ saw them."

It took Laxus only a moment to realize the weight behind those words. A shelter for domestic abuse, obvious bruises from a hard grab…

"Fuck," he whispered. His fist went up to his mouth, and he looked away from Freed. "Oh … fuck," he shuddered. Fear mutated to anger, and he lashed out, "Is she gonna turn me in now, claim I _beat_ you?"

"I don't think she's allowed to," Freed admitted, otherwise more would have been done. "I'm sorry, she just … it … it got me a little upset. I'm fine."

Laxus looked over hesitantly. "You're not _fine_."

"It's nothing."

"Fre-…"

"It's nothing!" he snapped. He shook his head, trying to put the anger aside. "I'm fine."

It was an obvious lie, but he felt guilty, being angry when that lady was just trying to help. His masochistic preference had never been brought up in the open like that before, and it had terrified him. He knew he was being defensive, but he could hardly help it. Hearing someone accuse Laxus of abuse infuriated him, but Kagura had only good intentions. It left him unsure what to think or feel.

Freed looked back over, but Laxus was gazing out the window, away from him. "Are you ready to drive some more?"

Distantly, he replied, "Yeah, let's go home."

* * *

They drove on in silence. Gradually, Freed managed to calm himself. It was a misunderstanding, nothing more. He probably should have told Kagura a partial truth—laugh it off as roughhousing in the bedroom—because now there was a possibility she might contact his mother about her son being in an abusive relationship.

He would have to call Mermaid Heel as soon as he got home.

He also realized he had snapped at Laxus. Although Laxus was obviously in a bad mood anyway with the inheritance and whatever this _epiphany_ he mentioned was, Freed had still shouted, brushed him off, and now Laxus was scowling in silence. He had to make this better.

He pulled into the condo parking garage, turned off the car, and immediately grabbed Laxus' sleeve.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to take it out on you. That place … was emotional. Maybe that weakened me, or angered me, I don't know. I'm sorry."

Laxus squeezed his hand. "You're not the one at fault here."

Freed looked up in shock. The way he said it sounded like Laxus thought _he_ was the one at fault.

"Let's get inside," Laxus blurted out. "It's past lunch."

Freed pouted, but he supposed he had a lot more to do to make it up to Laxus. He was acting strange, had been since last night. However, sitting in the car was _not_ the place to talk about this.

They rode up the elevator to their condo and stepped inside. Freed loosened the tie he wore to the restaurant and slipped off his shoes. Laxus ripped his tie off, stomped over to the couch, flopped down heavily, and turned on the television. Freed watched the silent, cold figure.

Maybe they could talk over lunch.

"Shall I make sandwiches, or do you want delivery? I guess you don't want to eat out again."

Laxus stared at the newscaster and muttered, "Whatever you want."

Freed pouted, but he tried to keep his voice cheerful. "Well, I could go for a pizza."

"Sounds good. Order whatever you want." The words came out hollow, unconcerned. He could have been agreeing to anything.

"Okay," Freed said hesitantly, worried by Laxus' coldness. "Do you want anything in particular?"

Laxus waved it aside, watching television.

"Laxus?" Cautiously, he approached the couch. "Come on. Normally you're bossy and tell me exactly what to get, even which toppings."

His face flinched slightly. "Just get whatever you want."

"Laxus," he whispered in concern. Definitely, he could see that something was wrong. Laxus was not even looking at him, yet his brow was pinched through a news story about puppies. "Is this about earlier? I'm sorry, I should have worn long sleeves. She saw the bruises and misunderstood."

His grimacing lips twitched. "Did she?"

Freed's mouth dropped. "Of course she did!"

Laxus turned off the television and looked up seriously. "I do some really abusive stuff to you."

"Laxus!" he gasped. "That's _not_ abuse. That's … it's…" He sat beside Laxus and grabbed his hand urgently. "It's BDSM, and I _like_ it!"

Laxus looked down at those small, nimble hands. There were bruises on Freed's wrists, both from when Laxus had tied his hands up with the necktie and from pinning him down on the ground. Up the arm were more bruises, finger-size purple marks, not deep, they would heal in a day or two, but it was pretty obvious those bruises were from a hand grabbing his arm.

"I hit you," he muttered. "I've done some really horrible shit to you. What if … if this is still me acting out against my dad?"

"Laxus, that's not it at all," he said gently. "At least, I don't think so, so … so it's…"

Laxus flinched as the voice from that nightmare echoed through his head again.

_"You're gonna hurt him bad one day, y'know."_

It was not just about bruises, either. That woman saw the bruises. She could report him. He could have already tarnished Freed's reputation.

He sneered and yanked away. "Fuck!"

"Laxus!"

"You should have gotten far away from me. That very first day, when I told you … I fucking _told you_ about my dad!" He looked up at Freed in anguish. "Why didn't you run away?"

"I wasn't scared."

"You _should_ have been!" He yanked away and fisted up his hands as his whole body shook in anger. "You should have stayed the hell away from me."

"Laxus! Come on," he begged sadly. It hurt to see him this self-deprecating. Freed really had no clue how to help. "What should I do? Should I…" His face cringed up. "Should I leave?"

"No … I just … dammit, this is hitting me harder than I thought."

Freed bit his lip, wondering what sorts of horrors were clouding Laxus' mind. Something obviously happened while he was away, then the anguish of being paid by a former client, dredging up his past, and finally the shelter, where surely Laxus was reminded of horrors from childhood. Freed wished he had taken a psychology class in college, something so he could know how to help.

"Will you feel better if you eat?"

"I…" Laxus' face drew up in anguish. "I don't know, Freed. Just … let me think."

"Okay," he whispered worriedly. "Then I'll … I'll call for pizza." He stood, but he looked down at the sullen face again. "It's _not abuse_!" he reaffirmed, but he said nothing else. He did not want an argument. Laxus needed time to sort out his past, and Freed needed time to figure out how to prove this, arguments to state his case, like writing an essay in college. He walked away to fetch his phone and call in the order.

Laxus looked down at his hands. With those hands, to the man he loved more than anything in his life…

All those times he took clients, beat them, all the while thinking about ways to torture his father…

What if … just the same … to Freed…?

The dream echoed again.

_"Trust me, he'll indulge you until one day you push him too far. Things will turn out so badly, you can't even look at one another without shame and guilt. In that moment, you'll remember this. You'll remember me. You'll realize you only like to hurt him because you always wanted to hurt me."_

Laxus clenched his fists and dug his nails into his palms. He shook his head. He did not want to believe it! Yet here they were, and all he could think about was his father, the pain of childhood, the years training in ways to bring pain to flesh, and that dream, that god-awful nightmare.

_"You said you didn't inherit being a sadist from me, and you're absolutely right. I created Laxus the Sadist. I created the opportunity for you to meet your sugar daddy and fuck his rich ass."_ Laxus shook his head, but the voice kept speaking._ "You … are with him … because … of me!"_

He met Freed because he was a sadist.

He was a sadist because of his father.

He and Freed were together … because of his father.

"Dammit," he seethed under his breath, suddenly questioning everything. "Goddammit."

* * *

Freed stepped out onto the deck to call Kagura and, as discreetly as possible, explained the bruises. She sounded suspicious, but when Freed told her that his mother was aware of his BDSM lifestyle and gave her blessing, she backed down and promised not to inform his family about the bruises. If it was done with consent, they were breaking no laws.

He went back inside just as the pizza arrived. He brought the box to the kitchen, but he did not see Laxus on the couch. A glance around the apartment did not reveal him. When Freed entered the bedroom, the lights were off, and he saw Laxus' bulky form on the bed.

"Pizza's here," he called in softly. There was no movement. Did he fall asleep? He walked around to Laxus' side. He was lying there, eyes open, staring straight ahead. "Are you okay?"

Laxus' empty eyes gazed out. "Yeah," he muttered.

Freed instantly knelt beside him. This was much more serious than he thought. "Laxus, I called that lady and explained it all to her. She even agreed, it's not abuse. Okay? Those women in there, and the men too, they were hit out of anger. They were _abused_. Those children…" It was hard to think that those innocent children suffered as well. "They didn't want that. _None_ of them did! None of them _asked_ for it." He emphasized slowly. "I … _want_ … it!"

Freed thought he gave a good argument. What more was wrong? Still, Laxus stared without really seeing.

_"That's what he likes, right? He craves the way you thrill him. If you give it up, he'll give up on you."_

The warnings of that nightmare kept ringing in his ears.

Freed burst out in desperation. "Come on, don't make me feel this way! I hate feeling like _I'm_ the weird one, because … because I'm a man and yet I _like_ being hit, being ordered around, being humiliated." His head rested on the edge of the bed. "That's a hard thing sometimes. Socially! If people found out I'm like that—"

He did not have to finish. They both knew the consequences of their predilections. Long before they met one another, they were both aware of society's views on the BDSM lifestyle. Freed raised his head and reached out to stroked Laxus' hair.

"But here, we have each other," he said lovingly. "I get what I need out of you, and you get what you need with me. It works out, and it's _consensual_. That's the important part. It's something I _want_," he pleaded.

Laxus' eyes narrowed and still could not look directly at him. "It's something you want," he acknowledged, "but what if I'm nothing more than an abusive, goddamn _sonuvabitch_?" His voice began to raise in anger and self-loathing. "You just happen to _want_ my abuse."

Freed pulled back in horror. "Laxus, how can … that's … dammit, you're _not_!" he cried, and tears came to his eyes. "How can I convince you?"

They both sat in silence, Freed shaking with anguish and fear that could not pull Laxus out of this depression, and Laxus staring hollowly.

Suddenly, Freed looked up at him. "You love me, don't you?" he shouted.

Laxus grumbled under his breath, "I'm sure those abusive husbands loved their wives."

"No, they didn't. They _didn't!_ If they loved their wives, they _never_ would have hurt them so much, so badly, they were forced to flee for their lives. _That_ isn't love. _That's abuse! _It's sick and it's wrong and … and it's not _us_. I want this, I _need_ it, and you do it to me because you love me and it's _what I want_. Those women never wanted it. They never consented. _That's_ the difference. That's the biggest difference in the world that separates BDSM from abuse: consent and intent. Don't you _dare_ think differently," he screamed in true anger now. "Don't you _dare_ say I want to be abused. Don't belittle the _entire concept _of the BDSM community."

Laxus turned his eyes up to him, honestly amazed that Freed was screaming. His hands were in trembling fists, and his eyes were narrow with rage.

Suddenly, Freed's head collapsed onto the mattress. Laxus watched with silent anguish as he saw the shoulders shaking, but Freed struggled not to let out any sounds. Only the unsteady breathing sometimes got a little too loud. Laxus lifted his hand, wanting to stroke his green hair and comfort him, but then he saw the arm again, those bruises, and his hand pulled back.

What right did he have to touch a man like this? He was a devil who specialized in torture, and this was the angel he had hurt for too long.

"Don't do this to us," pleaded Freed. When he raised his head, his eyes were wet, and they tore at Laxus' heart. "We've got a good thing. Please, Laxus," he begged. "Please, don't."

_"He'll crave that high, and if he doesn't get it from you, he'll simply find someone else, maybe hire some other dom to satisfy his needs."_

Laxus flinched at the smug words in his head. If he gave it up … Freed wanted this, but if he could no longer provide it … if he was already so mentally messed up that he had to give it up…

_"Give it up? You truly are stupid. That's what he likes, right? He craves the way you thrill him. If you give it up, he'll give up on you."_

Laxus shook his head and cringed. A life without Freed was unimaginable, but what was worse—what was _far_ worse—was the idea of losing Freed to someone else, of no longer being his 'one and only.'

_"He's rich. He could hire a professional and get his fulfillment without you knowing."_

Laxus could not take anymore. He rolled over, away from Freed, and clenched at the sheet under him. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Shit, I don't want to do this to you. I really don't."

"What is it?" Freed pawed at him and begged in desperation, "Please, Laxus, talk to me."

They needed to talk. The logical side of Laxus' mind knew this. Communication was key in any relationship. Someone told him that once. "Lately, I keep thinking of my dad."

Freed sat up taller and instantly stopped crying. His father!

"I hate him," Laxus hissed spitefully. "_Hate_ doesn't even come close. For as long as I can clearly remember, I've wanted to _kill_ him. Two nights ago, I had a dream, a fucking nightmare," he shuddered, "about my dad. Worst nightmare of my life, because there was too much truth to it. Ever since yesterday, I haven't been able to stop thinking about him, remembering things, shit I never remembered until now. Then today, seeing that place…" He gulped hard to hold down the tremble in his lungs. "I gotta wonder if a shelter like that existed when I was a kid. I'm sure they did, but … hell, I don't think Mom even knew what was going on, not until it was too late. By then, Dad was gone, and I was a fucked up mess. We didn't need to flee to a shelter. I sure didn't get the type of stuff those people get. Counseling, mostly. Fuck, I probably needed a counselor as a kid. If I had gotten one, would I have ended up like this? Would I still be … like _this_?"

Freed realized what he meant. Would he be a sadist if he had gotten psychological help to get over the hatred of his abusive father? Freed shifted over to sit on the edge of the bed and hold Laxus' hand, listening to him with empathy.

"I turned to BDSM because I wanted to kill my dad. How fucked up is that? I guess … I'm wondering now … do I _need_ it? I'm not like you; I wasn't always like this. I began out of the most fucked-up, mental-case reason in the world. Should I even do it when _that's_ my reason?" He glanced over to Freed. "Should I do it to _you_, considering my reasons?"

He saw Laxus' point. It was a little scary, and he would be lying if he did not wonder if Laxus ever did stuff to him while making mental notes about how pain affected the body, applying it to how he could torture his father. He had known from the very beginning, that was Laxus' reason for being a sadist. Still, he was okay with that.

Freed squeezed his hand. "But … I want it. How many times do I have to say it? Laxus, I—"

"What if I _don't_?" he bellowed.

Freed leaned back in shock. Words failed him.

"What would you do?" Laxus demanded, choked up on tears. "If I told you, no more BDSM, what would you do?"

What the hell was going on? Was Laxus himself no longer okay with BDSM?

Freed's conversation with Llewellyn returned to him.

_"He has nothing to apologize about!"_

_"Others may see it differently, including himself."_

"We can … can work something out," he insisted, shivering inside, feeling like a shadow was creeping out over the entire bedroom that had been their sanctuary. "We could … figure something … an alternative—"

"No!" screamed Laxus. "You are _not_ doing what your father did. To fucking _hell_ with that! I would rather you _leave_ me than have you hire someone to replace me."

"No, Laxus, I just meant—"

"You should've gotten away from me long ago, Freed." Laxus cringed down with tears dammed behind his eyelids. "I'm toxic to you. I never should've—"

"Laxus!" he screamed tearfully.

Freed wanted to yell that he could find alternatives. But … how? There were times when Freed direly _needed_ the emotional release of BDSM. Especially now as an adult, working hard, struggling with power dynamics in the corporate world, he needed to be balanced.

What if Laxus honestly could not provide that?

Months ago, Freed thought this was just a whim, a way to make sex more fun. Now, from time to time, it was a necessity. BDSM replaced more harmful ways of dealing with stress. It equalized his life.

If that equilibrium was banished…

How long could he last? Could he adjust?

Freed truly did not know. He had grown spoiled by Laxus. Imagining life without the sensual thrills and physical catharsis … Freed had never given it a thought.

It was not really fair on Laxus to demand that he remain in the BDSM lifestyle, or even in a BDSM relationship, if it only caused him grief.

"I'm being selfish," Freed muttered to himself. Right now, his needs were secondary to Laxus'. Freed stood and straightened his clothes. "Stay here," he said calmly.

Laxus watched with wariness. "Where're ya goin'?"

Freed smiled with painful understanding. "I don't think you want me around, so I'm going to go home."

"_Home?_" Laxus cried out, sitting straight up in shock. "You mean that big-ass mansion?"

"Yes," he said stolidly. "I'll be there. If you still want me, call my phone."

Of course he wanted him! But … did he deserve him? Did Freed deserve better? Of course he did! From the beginning, Laxus knew he deserved better. He deserved someone like that Rufus guy, someone sophisticated who knew which fork to use and understood wine instead of whiskey.

Still … to lose him!

"Freed."

"I told you, I want this, I _like_ this, but … I can't tell you what _you_ want or what _you_ should do," he stated. "I don't think you're abusive; I don't think I'm _being_ abused. I think I'm being loved and spoiled. Never abused! Not once in all these months have I thought that."

He sighed and looked down as his emotions threatened to overflow again. Calmly, he continued.

"I want you to realize, if you don't like it, if you no longer want … _that part _of this, I'll accept that," he assured. "However, if having me around is only painful … I'll accept that, too."

His lips began to tremble, but he kept a stern edge, just as he had been taught about controlling his emotions in business situations. This was the biggest _business deal_ of his life, with his future happiness on the line. He could not break down, not yet.

"I want what's best for you, Laxus, even if it's not what's best for me. What's best for me is exactly what we have right now, but … but if that's painful to you … I'm not a sadist," he said with a tiny yet sad smile. "I can't put you through pain. I can handle pain more than you can, so I'm willing to do whatever it takes for you to stop hurting inside, even if it hurts me. However, you need to decide what you want to do. It's up to you now. You're in pain, and you've all but said a safeword to stop that pain. So I'm backing off. You need to figure out your needs, your boundaries, and what you can handle. When you do, come find me. I'll be waiting, loyal and eager, the same as I've always waited for you."

Laxus stared, mouth dropped. This was up to him now, and he had no idea yet how he felt, what he wanted. Nothing!

Freed watched, but he saw the inner turmoil. He was the one who initially hired Laxus. He was the one who asked him out on their first date as a couple. He was the one who brought him to this condo. Always, Freed had been the one grasping hold of Laxus, controlling where he went. Like in the rule of BDSM: it's the submissive who holds the true power.

Now, he needed to walk away. It was time for Laxus to decide his own future.

"Pizza's in the kitchen," he muttered stiffly, turning away before he broke down.

Laxus sat motionlessly except for a slight tremble that would not stop. He heard Freed pulling on a coat, and he did nothing. He heard him tamping on his shoes, yet Laxus only clenched his hands and whispered his name. He gasped as he heard the door open, yet he could not muster up the courage to call him back. Then the door shut, and his body jolted with the slam.

No! Why had he let him walk out? One word, just one goddamn word, would have made him stay.

Alone now, Laxus glared down at the sheets. He knew this was his fault. He had pushed Freed away. He was broken, and there wasn't a thing Freed could do about it, no matter how much he cried and screamed. This was his problem, his alone, and Freed realized that.

Laxus had forgotten how horrible it was to be truly all alone.

"Fuck." He shivered in bottled rage. Then he grabbed a pillow and threw it across the bedroom, knocking over and shattering a framed picture of the two of them. "_Fuck!_"

He threw himself down onto the mattress. He wanted to rage and cry and run far away and chase after Freed and … too many things at once.

He ended up crying.

**Next Chapter: "Return Home"**

* * *

_**Audio drama**: chirb =dot= it/__GzvmtM (Bring tissues. I went all out with the emotions. I even broke a glass in that last rage scene. It also includes some hilarious outtakes at the end.)  
_

_Maybe this isn't the happiest way to celebrate **50 chapters of CTT**, but it's a needed scene. These issues have been brewing since the beginning.  
_

_Just to warn everyone, I'm now out of buffer chapters. Followers of my other fanfics have noted (and some have complained ... loudly) that I've been updating CTT but I've not updated my other fanfics in months. The reason is a happy one. I'm about to publish a novel. I've been so focused on this monumental task, I haven't touched fanfics at all. CTT was updating only because I had up to this chapter already done, but now ... now, sadly, it joins the rest on hiatus. And at the most wicked spot to stop, too! With any luck, my novel will be ready by mid-August. I hope a few of you will consider supporting me by purchasing the paperback or downloading the ebook from Amazon. I'll tell you all about it in the next chapter._


	51. Return Home

_Audio drama: chirb. it/fpc8C9  
_

_I apologize for the hiatus. **I PUBLISHED A NOVEL! **It's available on paperback and Kindle ebook. I promise, it's safe for your parents to read as well. It's romantic, but not graphic. Even my father loved the story, and he's a picky reader.  
_

_**Paperback on my estore** (better royalties for me, wohoo!) - createspace =dot= com/4917835  
___**Paperback on Amazon** (global distribution) - _amazon =dot= com/dp/1500615757  
**Kindle Ebook** \- amazon =dot= com/dp/B01KIL75Y4_

_Thanks for waiting._

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Chapter 51

**Return Home**

Evergreen cut into her eggs. "So, a week ago, you and Laxus had a … domestic dispute?"

Freed smiled sadly as he tried to eat. "Yeah, something like that. That's why I'm staying here."

It did not feel like a week had passed. It felt like years! Every day passed so slowly. When he first arrived at the Justine mansion, everyone in his family was gone. His father was away on business, Evergreen was living on campus at the university, Bickslow was still in rehab, and his mother now had a place of her own in Paris. He had the massive mansion to himself, which was probably best: no nosy prying. The staff did not question the _young master's_ sudden return home. He could brood without disturbances.

The previous night, Evergreen arrived and fell asleep almost immediately with hardly a hello. Although Freed was upset that his solitude was over, he at least had time to straighten out his emotions. He was ready for a little socializing at the breakfast table.

"I guess it happens in every relationship," she said lightly, trying to make it sound like this was not something for her brother to worry about too much. "Everyone has a fight now and then. Even Elfman and I have had our _little spats_. At least you have a place to come home to."

"Yeah." He smiled to himself, glad his family would always be there for him. "So, what are you doing here? What about college?"

"Classes let out for the summer weeks ago. I _was_ in Cancun, but that got to be so _boring_. All those parties, they're the same over and over. I didn't feel like staying in the dorm, and I missed Nana's cooking." She eagerly dug into the food.

Freed chuckled. "You need to learn how to cook for yourself someday."

"Ugh! Whatever!"

The butler stepped in just then. "Young master, miss, I should inform you that the master has arrived. He shall be joining you for breakfast."

"Father's home already?" asked Freed. "I wonder if the negotiation was a bust."

"We'll know if he comes in fuming and drinking coffee with bourbon, or reading the news and sipping tea."

Freed laughed. They really had figured out their parents' idiosyncrasies over the years.

A few minutes later, the dining room doors opened, and Llewellyn marched in with a tablet in his hand.

"Good morning, son," he said formally.

"Morning, Father. Was the trip well?"

He hummed, then looked up at a maid. "Darjeeling and milk," he ordered.

Evergreen shielded her mouth and whispered over to Freed, "He got the deal."

Llewellyn took a seat at the head of the long table. "Bas said you've been home for a week," he noted, not taking his eyes off the report he was reading.

"Yes. I hope it's not an inconvenience."

"Nonsense. Children should come home as frequently as life allows it."

A plate was set down in front of Llewellyn with a cup of tea. He continued to read some news on his tablet, and Freed tried to put a better effort into eating his breakfast.

"Any reason for your return?" Llewellyn asked without any emotion or hint of interest, a facade too forced to be natural.

Hesitantly, Freed replied, "I felt it to be necessary." It was obvious: he was here, Laxus was not, so something happened between them.

A long silence fell between them.

Evergreen sighed and muttered to herself, "Well, this isn't awkward!"

They ate with a tense atmosphere. Finally, plates were taken away, and all three just had their drinks: a mimosa for Evergreen, a latte for Freed, and tea for Llewellyn.

Finally, Freed looked up. "Father, can we speak in private?"

He glanced over, saw the weariness in his son's face, and set his tablet down. "Of course. My office."

"Thank you," he said with a formal bow.

The two left, and Evergreen sipped her drink.

"Seriously! Men!"

Freed followed his father's firm steps. The man always had an air about him, dignity and importance that could be intimidating even to his own son. Freed had been expected all his life to emulate this demeanor. So when they entered the office and shut the door behind them, he did not take a seat. He stood firmly even when his father sat behind his desk.

"I assume you wish to speak about Laxus," Llewellyn said, cutting straight to the issue.

Freed had been debating about asking his father for guidance. He knew no one else with whom he could speak, no one else in this lifestyle, and no one who knew Laxus in that sort of way. Still, knowing his father's connection to Laxus made this far harder.

He weighed his words carefully. "How do you convince a sadist that they're _not_ abusive?"

Llewellyn looked stunned. "Are you serious?" he cried out, which caught Freed by surprise. "_Laxus_ thinks that?"

"Yeah," he whispered, and his head dropped in sadness.

Llewellyn hated to see his child in such anguish. He tried to come up with the perfect answer, just like how he had always had answers for his son when he was a boy asking questions far beyond his tender years.

Not this time, though.

"I'm honestly not sure," he admitted. "If that's something they're worried about, if it's dom-drop or just lack of confidence, you have to keep convincing them that you want it."

"I did!" he shouted. "I … I _tried_." He finally sank into a chair and covered his face as the anguish that had been building over that whole week tormented him. "I told him. I _kept_ telling him. He said … he doesn't _want_ it anymore, that he's just being abusive. The problem is … there's history," he admitted, really not wanting to get into _that_ issue. "He has a right to be worried, but … but it's not abuse," he insisted. "I told him over and over, but … _Dammit!_" he yelled, slamming his fists against the chair's arms. He took a deep breath, battling against the emotions.

Llewellyn gave him a moment to calm down. Once he saw Freed's shoulders loosen up, he spoke again. "Did something spark this?"

Freed nodded, struggling to speak through the frustration tensing up his throat. "Someone … noticed my bruises," he answered quietly, as if this was a secret he had to hide despite them being alone. "They … _questioned_ the health of the relationship."

Llewellyn said it bluntly. "They accused him of being abusive."

"She…" He wanted to defend that safe house matron. He knew it was unfair to hate her. "The accusation was not made directly toward him," he clarified stiffly. "I happened to tell him about it, and now he's second-guessing himself."

"And you _left_ him?" Llewellyn cried out. "For a whole week?"

"I couldn't even _talk_ to him," Freed protested. "He kept pushing me away—"

"So you keep pushing back!" he scolded with a loud shout.

Freed blinked at the fervency. "Father," he muttered.

Llewellyn gave a sigh. This really was a troublesome issue for the two of them to discuss. "This isn't even about BDSM relationships. This is about being _in_ a relationship. If your partner is unsure, if you're having problems, you _stick together_."

Freed dropped his head. "You make it sound so easy."

"It's not … I _know_!" he admitted with a distant gaze as he thought about all the grief he went through to understand this issue. "But it's what has to be done, or you end up like me: divorced, alone, wishing things had been different."

Llewellyn shook his head. If someone had given him the same advice when he was Freed's age, maybe he could have done things differently to save his marriage. He looked over at his son, hunched over with pink eyelids as he struggled to hold back tears. From the bottom of his heart, Llewellyn truly wished these two lovers could fix things, if only to make Freed happy again and save him from that same loneliness.

"You have to go back to him. Communicate! Talk to him, and stay with him as he talks. Even if it grieves you, even if it _angers_ you, hear him out, and be honest as well. If he's seriously unsure of himself, you need to make sure that he knows, at the very least, that he still has _you_. Even if he has to give up BDSM for whatever past is grievous to him, even if you _can't_ give up BDSM because it's part of who you are, you can still have each other. Even if not as lovers, at least as two people who understand one another on an intimate level."

Freed clenched at his trouser legs. _Not as lovers?_ The idea terrified him. He had told Laxus that he needed BDSM, but over that week, Freed came to realize that this was not really true. He _liked_ it, but BDSM was not a requirement. It never had been. It made things wilder, it took him away from the stress of life, but if it came down to choosing sadomasochistic play or choosing Laxus, there was not even a hesitation of a doubt what he would pick.

Still, that did not stop Laxus from fearing himself.

"He's convinced he's abusive," he muttered, feeling pained in his heart as he thought about how much self-loathing had been in Laxus' face that day. Freed cringed, wishing he could just waved his hand, cast a magic spell, and take away off that emotional agony. Instead, he felt so helpless. "There was nothing I could do. I was bringing him pain. If I had stayed, he would have kept hurting."

"Do you honestly think it _didn't_ hurt him, hearing you leave, being abandoned when he was in pain?"

Freed dropped his head and clenched his fists tighter on the trouser fabric. "I … I didn't know what else I could do. If I stayed, he'd hurt. If I left, he'd hurt."

"It's better to hurt knowing someone is there than to hurt alone. Freed, this could be dom-drop. It happens. Have you ever had sub-drop?"

Freed felt awkward, but he nodded quietly.

"It's a similar thing. Chemicals in the brain get screwed up, and next thing you know you're trapped in depression. A dominant can begin to hate themselves for being hurtful to the one they love. You've got to stay with him through this."

"But … I can't get into details, but … I see his point. There's … _history_. He was abused. He … dammit, I don't want to say this to you, of all people." Freed knew he had to word this just right, to explain it properly while still being respectful of Laxus' privacy. "When Laxus worked on clients, he imagined they were his father. He … he wants to … _get even_ with his father. Not in a legal way," he said softly, a bit of sadness and fear slipping into his voice. "His father abused him … severely … and he took that aggression out on clients while plotting how to hurt his father."

Llewellyn stiffened up, realizing Freed was talking about him. Him and dozens like him! He never questioned _why_ Laxus did what he used to do, what he thought about while doing it. He had always pretended that Laxus got as much sensual pleasure performing those acts as he had taken in receiving them.

"So he's worried that this … _us_ … if it's the same. Is he still using BDSM as an outlet for paternal hatred? If he had never been abused, would he even be into BDSM? I can't answer that for him. Then he asked, what would I do if he couldn't do BDSM. I almost answered that we could find an alternative, like what you and Mother did. He … _God_ … he's never yelled that loud at me before. I actually thought for a moment that he might hit me in anger."

Llewellyn's brow tensed to hear that.

"I thought he … that maybe, he'd be okay with the idea, since it's what he did in the past, but … but I guess … that's precisely _why_ he's so opposed to it. I can understand that."

"What _would_ you do?" Llewellyn asked, curious but deeply concerned.

Freed lowered his eyes. "I've been asking myself that all week. We probably could have talked, could have come to some agreement, but … but I felt I couldn't even be around him. He pushed me away, said I never should have fallen for him, I should have run off as soon as I knew about his past, about his father. He said he ne- … never…" The tears he had been holding back finally dripped down Freed's eyes. "… never should have fallen for me. He feels he's _toxic_, as he put it. It … hurt … deeply to hear that. Because I've known for a while, he thinks it. I can see it, more and more lately. He thinks he's not good enough. He feels I deserve someone better, richer, someone without a questionable past. It's just like you said. I may feel he has nothing to apologize about, but Laxus … he doesn't feel that way at all. His past—what he's done, and the reasons for it—tortures him." Freed dropped his head into his hands as he struggled to regain control before the silent tears turned into outright sobs. "I honestly had no clue what more I could do. It's not about convincing him that I love him. It's not even an issue of convincing him that he's not abusive. He has to convince himself that he's doing this out of love, not misplaced aggression. How can I possibly convince him of something that personal?"

"By making him love you for just yourself, and reminding him of all the love you two have beyond the bedroom. How you do that, I don't know. You need to speak with him, communicate, figure out his needs, and determine your own. It sounds like his biggest fear is that if he gives up BDSM, he'll lose you … and he just lost you."

"No!" Freed cried out, sitting straight up with a horrified face. "I … I gave him space, time to think…"

"You walked out the door when he was weak and vulnerable."

Freed's mouth dropped in objection. _No!_ He loved Laxus more than anything. He left to give him time. Still, it had been a whole week, and he had heard nothing from Laxus. What if he was wallowing, starving himself in the dark bedroom, crying into pillows? What if he got raging drunk and was lying comatose on the kitchen floor from alcohol poisoning? What if he ran off, thinking he must have lost everything already?

"Go back to him. Patch it up if you can. You need to be the strong one this time." Llewellyn sighed and walked over to his wooden cabinet. "I think you need a drink."

"It's morning!" Freed protested.

Llewellyn pulled out a crystal decanter of brandy. "That's often the time we _most_ need a drink."

They sat together discussing banal things: the weather, the garden, stocks, sports, politics, all while sipping brandy. Freed's mind stopped whirling in anguish. The world was filled with little troubles, and this was just one of them. He needed to clear it up, as simple as that.

The office door thumped with a knock, and Bas the butler opened the door. "Young master, there's a Mister Dreyar at the door to see you."

Freed jolted up. "He came here?"

Llewellyn smiled at the instant brightness in his eyes. "Do you wish to see him?"

"Yes!" Then he sank back down into the chair. "Maybe," he amended, and confessed, "I'm worried."

Llewellyn shook his head, and in his best fatherly voice, he said, "What have I always told you? '_Show not your weakness by passion, or imprudent words or deeds; by fretfulness or murmuring impatience._' Bas, show him to my office."

"Father!" he cried out as the servant bowed and left.

"I won't be here," he assured, finishing the last of his brandy glass. "That would make things _really _awkward."

"Yes, it would," he grimaced.

Llewellyn began to walk away, but he placed a hand on Freed's shoulder. "Assure him that you'll stay by him, but only if you think you really can. If he can't do it, and you can't give it up … be honest with yourself and with him."

Freed straightened his back and nodded firmly. "I shall, Father. Thank you."

He gave a curt nod and walked out of the room.

It was five tense minutes before the doors opened and Bas let Laxus enter. Freed melted a little the moment he saw the shine of golden hair. A week apart had only made him love Laxus even more. The scarred face looked calm and slightly contrite.

"Hey, Freed," he muttered awkwardly.

"Hello, Laxus," he whispered, wanting to run up and embrace him, but knowing he couldn't yet. "I—"

"Look—" Laxus said at the same time.

They both paused, but Laxus gave a nod for Freed to go first.

He hesitated to put together what he had planned to say. "I … can live without it. All of it."

Laxus' brow tensed in confusion. "Without?"

"BDSM," he clarified. "I had to really think about it, too, but I just realized … I could live without it." His face grimaced in anguish. "But _like hell_ could I live without you! I would rather have you and not have BDSM, than to ever lose you. I can imagine having gentle sex and nothing else, but not having you … I've thought about it from time to time, these nasty little scenarios that pop into my head. What if my parents outright demanded that we break up: that sort of thing. I always came to the conclusion that you were more important than material wealth, and if I had to pick between the family fortune and you … every time, I knew I'd pick you. So this time as well, I thought about it seriously." He looked Laxus straight in the eyes. "Nothing matters more to me than having you by my side. Love is not about sex; it's about being with someone who makes you happy, fighting through daily troubles side by side, and feeling happiness by bringing them joy. It's not about sharing the same bed; it's about sharing the same dreams."

Freed reached forward and clasped Laxus' hand, happy to see he was still wearing the promise ring. That shine of silver gave him hope.

"I am more than willing to give up BDSM, give up my inheritance, give up just about _anything_ to keep you with me. Because your happiness brings me happiness. I want you to share your dreams with me, and I want to share my future with you."

Laxus' mouth dropped, overwhelmed by the love and adoration in those words. He smiled with a slight blush. "It's good to know I didn't totally fuck up and ruined everything."

"You didn't," he assured.

Laxus squeezed Freed's hand while gazing down at him. He realized, it was his turn now. "I called a therapist. I've never been to one. God, what a first session that was! I thought I was gonna scare him away, blurting it all out. Thought I might have ended up arrested too, admitting I wanted to kill my father and I actively chased him across the globe. He canceled all his other appointments that day. We talked … shit, probably six hours. We even went out to dinner together, still talking over tacos. It felt … good … getting it all off my chest. Weird, scary as hell, but good. I set up another appointment, just got finished with it. He told me to come here."

Laxus paused, trying to find the right words.

"I don't know where therapy is gonna lead me, but I know one thing. I want this to work out. Whatever we both gotta do, we'll do it. It's worked up 'til now, and I don't think we need to change it. If we've gotta make changes, we discuss what to change to make it better. One day at a time. That's what the doc said. Stop worryin' about how I may feel in the future; worry about the present. How do I feel right now, at this moment? Let the future come at its own pace, and figure out adjustments along the way. We'll discuss it together, and we'll be honest. We'll compromise if we have to, but only as much as each of us is willing. We'll do whatever the hell it takes, because I don't think either one of us wants this to end."

"No," he cried out, squeezing Laxus' hands.

Laxus smiled to hear that. He traced over Freed's silver promise ring and the etching of a fencing sword that he felt was most appropriate for his gentleman-swordsman who had carved himself into his heart.

"I love you, Freed Justine," he declared, rubbing over the ring. "More than I can say. There's nothing in this world that can convince me to feel otherwise. At the moment … maybe a few things need to change, but I'm okay with bondage in general. I'll see what I can do, but if anything triggers me—"

"You stop it _immediately_," Freed insisted.

He nodded with a small smile. "Yeah. But don't try to beg for more if I just can't. And if you ever, _ever_, don't want something, you let me know."

"I've always—"

Laxus put a finger to Freed's lips, silencing him. "Let me know. I need to know. If it's ever unwanted, non-consensual, even just one percent, you fuckin' _let me know_."

Freed saw the direness in his eyes, and he tipped in head with an understanding smile. "I will."

Laxus nodded sternly at the agreement. "I'll let you know, too. If I just can't do it … if I ever find myself doing it for any reason besides the fact that I want to pleasure you fully … I'll stop. I swear, I'll stop right there. If I need to stop, don't try to force me to keep going. If I pull back and stop a scene, it's because I've gotta. I hate the idea of leaving you hanging unfulfilled, but if I've gotta—"

"I understand," he said solemnly.

He then let go of Freed's hands and cupped his face. "I want you to know—and I really had to think back over everything, all the way back to that first night at the Hilton—I never did something to you while thinking about my father. Not once! I really thought through it all, every single time we did anything remotely sexual."

Freed blushed coyly. "We've done a lot of stuff."

"Hell yeah, we have! It was a lot to think through. But I needed to make sure. For myself, I needed to think through it all. I'll be honest, I wasn't sure what I'd do if I realized I ever did something and imagined how to hurt my dad. I'd probably run off, get away from you, terrified I'd hurt you for real one day. So I really thought through all these months, and I realized … not once! Always … _always,_" he stressed, "it's been about wanting you to feel good. Even that first night, you were different from all the other clients because … because I _wanted_ to make you feel good. I wanted to help you, and the whole time was incredible for me, too. I wanted to hear more and see more. I never thought about my dad that night. I was just thinking about you." He grabbed Freed's face with both hands. "It's always been about wanting to give you what you need, and it has _always_ been my greatest pleasure to make you happy."

Freed took a bold step forward and hugged him. "I need _you_, Laxus. Kinks or none, I want to be with you. Even without BDSM, I'd still want you, and no one else. It wouldn't be pleasurable if it wasn't your hands. I also thought about it. I do _like_ BDSM, but I don't think I _need_ it. When we have plain, gentle, regular sex, that's wonderful, too. When I top…" He blushed and dipped his head down. "I … really like that. So, no matter what we do, if we have to change things up, if you can't do BDSM, or even if you can't top for whatever reason, it's okay with me. Trust me, I'm not _bored_ with vanilla sex, considering I was a virgin a few months ago," he said with a chuckle.

Laxus laughed as well. They had both been inexperienced until that day in Freed's dorm.

Freed rested his forehead against Laxus' brow. "I've only had you, and I only ever want you. I love you. I love you so much … you said once that _love was fucked up_ because there's not a stronger way to express deeper love. You're right. I love you so much, there aren't words in the English language." Freed's hands reached out to him, and Laxus watched as Freed caressed up his chest, resting a hand over his heart. "So … I guess … like you said to me once. _Aishiteru._"

Laxus struggled with a smile as he heard that word that evoked a deep love in Japanese, something the English language lacked. "Same here," he choked out. "_Je t'aime. Je t'aime à la folie!_" I love you madly! "So, ya want me back?"

"Definitely," he sighed.

He chuckled, tilted Freed's head up, and gave him a kiss. Gazing down tenderly, he said what he had told Freed so many times before.

"Of course you do."

Freed smiled, glad to see him return to his dominant presence. "I want to show you, it's not abuse. Not at all! And I want to show you how much I like it."

Laxus took a cautious step back, suddenly looking doubtful. "Freed, I … I don't know if I—"

"Please, hear me out," he requested. "I know we said we don't have to do it, but … I still sometimes want it. But only if it's you," he assured. "I wouldn't want anyone else doing that to me, and I would rather give it up than hurt you. I want to see how far I can push _you_ this time. I need to know _your_ boundaries. Once I do, I'll know what I can ask for and what to avoid. I like BDSM, but I'm not addicted to it. I'm addicted to _you_! I want to give you pleasure." His hand rubbed up Laxus' arm, feeling the contours of muscles under his shirt. "I love it so much because I know it gives you pleasure. If you don't like it … what point is there? Show me what _your_ boundaries are. Show me your very worst. Let me know what you crave, and I can forget about whatever doesn't bring you pleasure." His hands came to rest on Laxus' shoulders, and he peered up at him with sternness. "Let me show you it's _safe_. Let me show you it's _sane_. But only if it's _consensual_."

Laxus' mouth dropped. There was a little bit of that neediness he loved so much in his little submissive, but there was also passive understanding that they were on fragile groundwork, mixed with determination to guide them both back onto a path that was healthy and constructive. Freed never ceased to amaze him in how many layers there were to him. When he thought he had his hands on a little sex slave, he showed the prim aristocrat. When he thought Freed was about to be a stubborn rich boy, he was bashful and coy. When he thought he had a pure angel, he saw a devilish gleam in his eye.

Right now, there was a little bit of it all in that face, and every single one of those complex layers of Freed Justine all wanted him to explore whatever new limits there needed to be between them.

"Fuck," he whispered with inexpressible joy.

How was he supposed to say no when all he had wanted this whole week was to have Freed take him back with unconditional love? Now, here he was, and he saw it: that trust, that adoration, and a stubborn streak that showed him clearly, there was no way Freed would let him go that easily. He had to trust in Freed now, trust him to guide them both back into a solid relationship, trust him not to go too far, and trust him to back off if Laxus simply needed less.

It was a lot of trust to put into a single person, but he knew Freed was strong enough to handle it.

"All right," he conceded.

Freed let out a held, worried breath, relieved that he had not pushed Laxus into an uncomfortable spot already. They quietly caressed each other's faces, no more words needed as they took this first step toward healing.

Then their grins turned devious. The excitement between them crackled like electricity without having to say a single word. It shined in both of their eyes, turquoise and electric blue. They knew where they needed to go now.

_Their playroom!_

**Next Chapter: "Playroom"**

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_A/N: The quote, "__Show not your weakness by passion, or imprudent words or deeds; by fretfulness or murmuring impatience," comes from Reverend Thomas Smyth's "Appendix Containing Standing Notices, Practical Directions, and Hints for the Use of the Members of the Second Presbyterian Church, Charleston, S.C." (what a title!) under the subheading "How to Govern Well a Family."_

_It's an idea of mine that Llewellyn was raised in a religious family. His father, who founded the company, was the____ son of a ________Presbyterian __preacher and _______tended to quote from religious tenets. H______is mother, although she dutifully attended church with the family, was far from moral. Freed explained in Chapter 14, she murdered Llewellyn's father for the money but committed suicide when the police figured out she did it._ __Llewellyn began to question his faith after his father's murder, then stopped attending church completely when he realized he was bisexual with a penchant for masochism. Still, he raised Freed with random quotes taken from his father's words of wisdom, which were mostly gleaned from religious texts. Llewellyn doesn't even knows where many of these quotes came from, he just has them memorized because of his father.  
_

_I have no clue where I found such an obscure quote, but I liked it and included it. So yes, Llewellyn gave advice from a religious thesis to his son who is about to meet up with his gay dom. Oh, sweet irony!_ ^_^_  
_


	52. Playroom

_Audio drama: chirb. it/__75Ocvq_

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Chapter 52

**Playroom**

Freed and Laxus left the study holding hands and smiling, yet right down the hall stood Llewellyn, still reading reports on his tablet. He looked up and instantly noted that the two were holding hands. Laxus began to pull away, unsure what the Justines might deem as inappropriate displays of affection, but Freed's hand tightened down on his, not allowing him to let go. He faced his father with a possessive hold on his lover, almost as if daring him to say anything against their love.

Llewellyn lowered the tablet. "Ah! So, you worked things out?"

"Almost." Freed glanced up at Laxus and squeezed his hand. "We need to discuss some details. We'll be back."

Llewellyn nodded with passive understanding. He knew precisely what _that_ meant. "I have work to do anyway," he said to excuse himself. "Please, do stay for lunch."

Freed tipped his head in respect, and they left until they came to an elevator. Freed pulled out the special key that worked the hidden floors.

"Down to our little sex dungeon, you kinky bastard," Laxus goaded as they rode in the elevator.

Freed looked up at him in concern. "Is that room going to be okay for you?"

Suddenly, two arms caged him in, and the loud slam of the hands against the elevator wall made Freed yelp. Laxus leaned in close with a starving gleam in his eyes.

"Hell yeah."

Laxus kissed him hard and ground his hips against him. Freed's moan filled the elevator, and Laxus surged forward, pinning him tightly to the wall. Freed's fingers grasped as he frotted against Laxus, undulating on that thick cock that was trying to pierce him already.

Laxus growled in lust. He had missed the way Freed's body so easily reacted, how it tattled all the carnal desires that brewed in the heart of this elegant aristocrat. He missed the taste of his mouthwash as his tongue plunged in, and the strength of those hands that gripped him so hard, Laxus knew he would have small bruises.

He missed _everything_ about Freed!

"Shit, can we skip the BDSM comeback and just have makeup sex?"

"Mm-hmm," Freed moaned.

Laxus frantically worked on the buttons of Freed's shirt, ready to just rip it off. He would have if they were alone and not in a house with Freed's father and sister upstairs.

"Gonna be hard, rough, and messy. No prep time," he warned.

Freed's nimble hands already had Laxus' belt unbuckled and pulled apart. "Don't care! Need it!"

The elevator dinged, the door slid open, but they did not hear it. Freed yanked Laxus' leather pants down to his ankles and groaned at seeing his erection spring forth. Laxus pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the corner of the elevator. With their tongues still twisting together, Freed shuffled his pants down and stepped out of them.

Suddenly, Laxus grabbed Freed, lifting him effortlessly. With his back smashed against the elevator wall and his shirt still half on, Freed wrapped his legs around Laxus. That thick cock lodged behind, and Laxus thrust into the valley between Freed's butt cheeks.

"Fuck, don't you _ever_ walk out the door on me like that again," Laxus snarled through savage kisses.

"Never," Freed swore, quivering as that cock rubbed against his asshole. "Don't push me away or shut down on me. Talk!"

"I'll try."

Laxus licked his hand to moisten it, then grabbed Freed's cock and stroked it, making him shudder with a wild moan. He had not touched himself that whole week. He was built up and sensitive.

"Need you," growled Laxus. "Couldn't even sleep in that bed without you. It's just not right."

"Where … _nnngh_ … where did you sleep all week?" Freed asked as his cock began to drip along Laxus' hand, letting him glide easier.

"Couch. Fell asleep watching … _f-fuck_ … watching wrestling."

Freed leaned his head back as Laxus sucked along his neck. "Sexy half-naked men groping each other? Were you stroking off to erotic fantasies?"

"Fuck you!" he grumbled, nipping at Freed's throat. "I wasn't able to jerk off all week. It's no good if it isn't you."

"Same … _ahhhn_ … same here."

Freed buried his mouth against Laxus' shoulder, whimpering as negative emotions flowed out and all that was left was love and desire.

"I need you." Tears poured from his eyes. "I love you … so much."

"I'm so sorry," Laxus whispered, but his body was not slowing down, nor did Freed stop clawing into his back. The fingers were tightening, and he felt Freed's thighs trembling.

"L-Laxus!"

Suddenly, Freed felt as if he was falling in slow motion. His back was laid on the ground, and Laxus hovered above him.

"What?" he asked, shocked by the position switch. Were Laxus' arms getting sore? He could have stood on his own.

Laxus crawled down Freed's body, kissing it adoringly as he lowered himself until he got to the cock ready to blow. "I need to show you I can be tender."

"I _know_ you can," he shouted, straining against the throbbing in his erection.

"Still … for me … I need to show you I'm sorry. Plus," he smirked, "Bas would probably flay us if we got cum all over the elevator."

His head dipped down, and he took Freed's cock into his mouth, sliding the whole thing in deep. Freed gasped and instinctively clutched at the blond hair, thrusting in, only belatedly realizing that might hurt Laxus' throat. He was glad now that Laxus laid him flat, because his legs definitely would have given out.

"Oh _God_, Laxus!" he howled.

His mouth moved slowly, sucking up the pre-cum that had dripped, taking it as deep as he could go. Freed's moans were enticing and driving Laxus into a frenzy, but he wanted this, at least, to be his apology. He sucked languidly, knowing he was not giving Freed quite enough, forcing him to hold out. Maybe that was sadistic as well, but he was pretty sure it was a torture Freed thoroughly enjoyed.

"Lax- … _nnngh_ … please!" he whimpered. "Shit, _please!_"

When Freed resorted to profanity, Laxus knew he was close. A smile spread over his busy mouth.

"Please!" he begged. "Faster. Just … shhhhhit, more!"

Laxus changed to fast, full sucks, not caring that Freed's cock pounded his throat. Immediately, Freed's whole body leaped, his spine arched, his fingers dug into Laxus' scalp, and guttural cries, more beast-like than angelic, roared out. Laxus felt fluid filling his mouth and hummed in delight. He glanced up over Freed's spasming body and saw some of that moment of orgasm, how his cheeks flushed, wetness beaded in his eyes, his mouth hanging open, and mottled pinkness flushing over his skin.

_Fucking divine!_

As Freed began to sink and his whole body went limp, Laxus pulled back with a gulp. He gazed down at his fallen angel. So sensual!

How could he even _think_ that maybe Freed was a replacement for his father? Freed was far too good, too perfect, to fill in for any sort of low, mortal, mundane thing.

"Don't ever let me push you away," he whispered, rubbing his hands over Freed's half-dressed body. "If I'm ever that stupid again, smack me over the head. Punch me, kick me, I don't care, just knock some sense into me. I don't _ever_ want to lose you, Freed, but … dammit, I keep getting reminded of just how much I totally don't deserve someone as good as you. You could have _anyone_." He pouted and mumbled, "So why are you with me?"

Freed sat up and stared hard at him. Slowly, he recovered, and his demeanor grew harsher.

"Stand up," he commanded.

Laxus jolted out of his melancholia, hearing immediately that aristocratic tone of voice. He obediently rose to his feet. Freed shuffled closer on his knees, grabbed the erection, and gave it a lick. Then he looked up, eyes still narrow.

"Never do that to me again," he ordered.

Laxus shook his head.

"Don't you _ever—_" he screamed, "—make me that scared that I might lose you. If you're going to leave, write a note, leave the key behind, and never let me see you again, but don't you _ever_ make me go through that, begging you to stay, realizing how utterly _lost_ I am without you, breaking down right in front of you. Just vanish from my life, that way you don't have to see me when I fall apart, because without you…" He sniffled as tears fell. "…without you … there's nothing."

"Don't say that," Laxus whispered in worry.

"You're right about one thing. I could have any person, the most perfect romance, the ideal boyfriend, best-of-the-best in every aspect." His hand reached up and touched Laxus' chest over his heart. "And that's precisely why I'm with you. Because_ I can_ have anything I want … even someone as incredible as you."

Laxus shook his head. "But I'm just a—"

"Don't you get it yet?" he shouted. Freed rose to his feet and glared right at Laxus. "I'm not _stuck_ with you. I'm not forced. If anything, probably the whole world will think you're awful for me, but there's an advantage to being a spoiled rich boy. _I get what I want_." The harshness in his face softened. He leaned up and kissed Laxus' lips. "_This_…" he whispered. "This is what I want, more than anything. _I'm_ the one who's scared you'll wise up one day and leave me before the tabloids gets their claws on you. I'm the one scared you'll get bored, or you'll feel like I'm locking you away, or that maybe you're only staying with me because I'm _financially convenient_."

"Fuck no!" shouted Laxus. "I don't give a shit about your damn money."

"I know," he said with a relieved smile. "You fell in love with me before you knew who I _really_ was. That's what scares me. Would you have stayed with me if you knew from the start that I was the heir to an international corporation? Or would you have run away, not wanted such a hassle, scared off or intimidated? Could all of this—_all of it_—" he emphasized by waving his hand around to the elevator and the mansion around them, "scare you off in the future? You're not a fool, Laxus. You _know_ being with me will be a challenge. If you were solely attracted to the money, that might actually put my fears at rest, because I'd know you'd stay to mooch off the fortune, if nothing else. But you're not that sort of man, so … so why? Why put yourself in the limelight? Why chain yourself to a man who will be under public scrutiny for the rest of his life? Why lose your freedom just for me?"

"Freed…" Did he really fear these things?

He rested his head against Laxus' chest. "Those are the sorts of fears that keep me up at night. I'm terrified that you'll get sick of it and leave. I don't want you to see how that will destroy me. So don't put me through that again. Just vanish on me one day, like a band-aid torn off, no longer a part of me. Don't make me beg, because I _will_. I'll beg and cry and offer you anything, all the money in the world, just to stay by my side. Because you're worth it. The happiness you give me, the love you show me … money doesn't compare. I would rather give it all up for you … but I can't. I'm the one trapped—a white bird in a golden cage—whereas you're free, like a wild dragon. So if you ever need to," he said seriously, although saddened to even say it, "just fly away, and don't let me see you go."

Laxus listened to the words, watched the tears as Freed said them, and stood still until he was done. He knew Freed needed to get that off his chest. These fears had probably been brewing since the beginning.

How long had he hidden his actual social status from Laxus out of fear that he would run off?

He also had a point. Way back then, that first night with the lap dance, if he had known that man in the club was a son of the Justine family, he would have ran. Hell, he almost ran off when he first found out who Freed's father was. He had walked right out the door, planning to simply never look back. That moment of weakness haunted him now. If Freed had not run after him and begged him, he would have lost Freed forever.

So he had to admit, Freed had every right to be scared. He really had almost left once. Even over the past few days, Laxus had thought more than once that vanishing on Freed might be best. Yet that was something he simply could _not_ do.

"A wild dragon, huh?" he muttered. "You might have a point there."

Freed cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"Ya know the thing about dragons? They hoard! They find a treasure," he whispered, running his hands up and down Freed's body, "and they would rather watch the whole world burn than have that treasure taken from them. Maybe the dragon doesn't _deserve_ the treasure, maybe he acquired it through ill-gotten means, maybe a few knights in shining armor will even come to try and reclaim the treasure … but to the dragon, he's only thinking about one thing." His hands groped Freed's ass and yanked him forward possessively. "_It's mine!_" he snarled. His voice softened as he kneaded Freed's ass and smirked at the blushing cheeks. "Dragons don't care what gold is worth. They don't keep the treasure to be rich. They keep it because it's _theirs_, because it means more to them than life itself." His hands paused, and he looked down with serious eyes. "_You _… mean more—"

"Laxus!" he cut in, shaking his head, not feeling worthy of hearing that.

The blond had a gentle smile. "I just needed to know for myself _why_ I was keeping you. Maybe even dragons question why they hoard a treasure. What was the original reason? Was it greed? Was it anger? Was it some feeling long forgotten over time? _Why_ hold on to it when you know you don't deserve it?"

"Did you find an answer?" Freed asked worriedly.

Laxus shook his head. "I haven't a fucking clue. Original reason? Hell if I know. You were interesting, sexy, I couldn't get you out of my head, and I felt like I had a future with you. I'm still not sure why I feel that way. It's stupid. I could fucking _destroy_ your future. I know that _you_ know … I'm no good for you."

"No!" Freed screamed.

"Let me finish," Laxus ordered, instantly silencing him. "I'm no good for you _financially_, or _socially_, or _politically_. I don't bring any of that bullshit into this relationship. I'm just me, some poor ex-stripper from the slums, a fucked up past, no plans for the future, no ambitions, no education, nothin'. I'm seriously the worst thing in the world for you."

Freed opened his mouth to protest, but Laxus placed a finger over his lips.

"Yet you still want me. You were on your knees crying and begging—and I swear to you, I'll never make you do that again," he said ardently. "Still, that showed me … God damn me for making you do that, but I think I really needed to _see_ that you wanted me. And I want you. Maybe I can't remember _how _I fell in love, or why, or exactly when it happened, but it happened, and it was just us, not my past, not your money, not anything else. Just us. And it _worked_. It's been working for us. Somehow, _everything_ just works. We are so fucking _wrong_ for one another," he shouted, but his voice dropped, "and yet it's working so damn well."

He reached down and picked up Freed's hand, holding it so the silver promise ring showed prominently in the light, gleaming on the green rapier etched into the silver band.

"I _want_ it to work," Laxus muttered, unsure how to word his feelings. "I really … really want it to last. To work. To … to be…"

_Forever!_

He closed his eyes, leaned over, and kissed the ring, letting his lips rest on the metal. "I _need_ it to work, because I can't lose you. But I'm scared shitless that I'll mess up. I like what we do, I like the BDSM, but more and more … and especially lately … I'm scared I'll push it too far."

He thought about that awful dream and the taunts from his father that one day he would hurt Freed too much and lose him.

"I'm scared I'll go too far, and you won't say anything. I'll fuck up so badly, there won't be a way to fix it. I could _seriously_ hurt you, even put you into the hospital. It's happened in BDSM relationships. You've said plenty of times, you're worried that you can't take as much pain as some subs, you're afraid I'll need more and find it somewhere else. Maybe at some time, that was true. I took the job at the club, after all. But we worked that out. I thought it was okay. But it's not. Not for _me_. Your dad sees it, too. He wants me to quit, and he's using social status as a legitimate excuse, but he probably sees it and just doesn't want to point it out to you."

"Point what out?" Freed asked, feeling slightly worried again. What wasn't okay anymore?

Laxus frowned and kept his eyes turned to the side. "I can't keep working there. Not because of the press, not because of tabloids. Because of you!"

Freed flinched back. Him?

"You'll always feel like you're not enough, and I'll always question why I do it. It works for some people, the whole scene and public shit, but not us. I … I can't do shit like that to other people while thinking about my father anymore. I just can't! It's fucked up, and it's fucking with my head, and now it's fucked with _us_, and the last thing I'll allow that sonuvabitch to do is fuck up my relationship with you. Fuck that!" he shouted, breathing hard in outrage. He took a slow breath to calm himself. "So no more. BDSM will be just between us, and nothing else. I won't ever use it thinking about my dad again. It's only gonna be about me and you. Just us! I don't even care if they find my father. I hope they don't! Because it's gonna fuck up _us_, and I'm not gonna let that happen."

"Laxus," he whispered in shocked.

"I quit the club," he blurted out. "I don't know what the hell I'm gonna do about a job anymore, but … nothing like that ever again. Nothing that brings you shame, or makes you feel awkward."

"I _liked_ watching you," he protested.

"I didn't like _doing_ it. I did at first, I liked showing you what I could do, like I was bragging, 'Hey look at me, look how strong I am.' But that day at the exhibition, paddling Virgo … it made me sick. Maybe because it was a woman, and that's a first for me. I couldn't think about my dad, and that made things awkward as fuck! Besides, I only wanted _you_ on that stage with me, but Flare thought working two subs would be better. The more I think back on it, the more I realize I really wanted that moment to be between just us. I want _all of it_ to be just between us.

"Yesterday, I went into work, did a demonstration on stocks, and … and I walked out. Left the poor sub locked up naked in the stocks. Just walked out. I couldn't do it. I used to pretend they were my dad, but all I could picture was you. All I _wanted_ was you. I wanna live my life in a way that works with your life. You're sacrificing a lot and _risking_ even more just to stay with me. The least I can do is not make things worse."

Freed felt a panic surging up. His fear about locking Laxus away, stripping him of the carefree attitude that he loved so much, seemed to be coming true. He shook his head, hating the idea of doing this to the man he loved. Laxus once said he despised people who changed themselves just for others, yet here he was, doing it, changing his job, changing everything about himself, to fit Freed's life. It made Freed tremble with self-loathing. How could he make the man he loved do something like this? He refused!

"I want you to be free, though," Freed protested earnestly. "I'm _not_ going to cage you with rules, and social expectations, and—"

Laxus grabbed him and silenced him with a rough kiss. Freed's eyes opened wide in surprise, but slowly he calmed down. The panicking dread faded away. As he loosened up, Laxus pulled back, seeing a passive face again.

"I _am_ free. I can pick what future I want, what career I want. Unlike you, I can come and go to any job. I'm free to leave the fetish club, and I'm free to decide what I want in the future. I want _you_, and I want this—the BDSM, the kinks, everything—to only be _with you_." He caressed Freed's shoulders, smiling with understated happiness. "I want to touch and pleasure no one else but you for the rest of my life."

Freed jolted at the words and looked up in shock. For the rest of his life?

Laxus realized a moment later what he said, and his face went bright red.

"E-eventually!" he added frantically. "Eventually, I … I want … shit," he hissed, looking away with embarrassment.

"L-Laxus…"

"Don't!" he interrupted. "Don't … say … anything." He turned aside, shoving down desires. Dammit, why did he have to say it that way? Sure, it was how he felt, but he really should have worded it better. That was practically a _proposal_! "We're not ready for _that_, and I wanna wait until we're _really_ ready, and right now, making up after a fight … this isn't the right time for that. It's the _worst_ time." He looked flustered and waved his hand wildly. "Shit, just forget I said anything," he shouted.

Freed covered his mouth to hold back a laugh at Laxus' awkward recovery. It was nice to know he felt that way, but he was right. They had just had the biggest fight of their relationship. They had lots of issues to work out. Plus they were both half-naked standing in an elevator on their way to a sex playroom.

"Still, my point is … although I don't get aroused being a dom to other people, I get _them_ aroused, and that's not what I want. Even if it's just them and not me … I only want to make _you_ feel that way. I want this to be something that's just between us from now on. Yours is the only ass good enough to have my hand print on it," he said, rubbing down to Freed's bare butt. Then his fingers caressed over Freed's throat. "Your voice is the only one I want to hear moaning," he whispered endearingly. "The more I'm with you, the more spoiled I get, and now … now I … I _only_ want you. Nothing else works. Nothing else is good enough. Shit, I don't even know what I'm sayin' anymore," he grumbled. "I'm spoiled. Spoiled rotten! And it's all your fault. It's only good if it's you, and I ain't doin' it if it ain't good anymore."

"What about training for your father?"

Laxus felt sick to his stomach, remembering the horrible dream. "Fuck him. If that situation ever does happen, I know enough already. I can work out at a fucking gym to keep my strength, but I don't need to practice on others. I almost hope it _never_ happens. How could I leave you? I can't! I fuckin' couldn't even go one night alone in a hotel a few cities over without going crazy, and this week … this week was hell! Like I said, I'm spoiled. If I keep doing BDSM thinking about torturing my father, it's gonna mess me up all over again, like it messed me up last week."

Freed looked worried. "You mean with that inheritance, your former client. Did it bring up a bad memory?"

"Yeah, something like that. I had a fuckin' _nightmare_! And in it, my dad said I'd hurt you, and you'd leave. He said … I was using you as a replacement for him. Then you mentioned giving up the club, and I already kinda wanted to, but … but I thought … y'know, I was using the club for my practicing, and thinking about _him_. If I quit, if I made BDSM only about us, what if … if I … shit, what if I really _did_ use you as a replacement? And then I wondered if I had _ever_ done that. And what about the future? If I couldn't get it out of my system at a club, I might take it out on you. That thought, the idea of _using_ you like that, scared the fuckin' _shit_ out of me.

"Then that safe house, those kids with their eyes exactly how mine used to be, bringing up memories of my dad, and that lady thinking your bruises were due to me being abusive … that all blended with all the other shit I'd been fearing. I just shut down. It scared me, all of it, the fear about you, the flashbacks, worries about the future … it seriously terrified me. I had to think through all of it, and I had to rethink everything to come, and what I wanted, what I actually need, if I needed the club, if I'm that addicted to using bastards in lieu of my dad, because _like hell_ will I ever use _you_ that way. I just had to think through it all: what I did in the past, what I'm doing in the present, what I'm gonna need in the future."

"And?"

Laxus looked down into Freed's eyes. "And I need you. I never once used you that way, but I'm still using others that way. That stops right now. I want everything in my life to be about you."

"No, Laxus—"

"That's my choice!" he bellowed. "Freed … you don't know what it's like to not have a future. Your life was planned and prepared for you. I didn't have that. I had a goal, a bloody one, and I never looked beyond that revenge. I wouldn't have even known where to begin. I didn't plan for my future, didn't care about it, nothin'. But I know one thing for sure now. My future is you. I don't even see anything in my future that doesn't involve you. I never used to think that far ahead. Yet after our first night together, after just that _one time_, I began to dream things, stuff I never thought about before in my life. My future was a huge blank, but suddenly … it was green and golden and wonderful." He reached forward and caressed his knuckles over Freed's cheek. "When I think about where I'll be years to come, it's here in this big-ass house, and it's waking up next to you. Anything at all I imagine about my future, you're in it somehow."

A tear of happiness slipped down Freed's cheek and got wiped away by the rough knuckles.

"Maybe I'll get ambitions of my own one day," Laxus muttered, "but until then, my future is purely you. It's being your support, your partner, and making you happy. That's the best damn future I can imagine. So everything right now in the present, anything I do, I want it to prepare myself for that incredible future. I'm gonna straighten up, I'm talking to a therapist, and I'm gonna learn manners and shit. I'll learn which fork to use for each course in a meal, and how to properly drink wine. Maybe I can take online classes, learn something useful to your company. Or maybe like we said, I can be your bodyguard. I'm good at that, got some experience being a bouncer."

Freed laughed and leaned into him. To have Laxus as his bodyguard, following him all the time, would be a rather nice thing after all.

Laxus hugged Freed and looked down at him, so precious and fragile although he knew this man was strong and brilliant. Still, he wanted to protect him. Freed had finally given him a future, after all.

"I want to leave behind anything that's gonna screw us up. I won't be an office rat, I'll tell ya that, but … maybe … I can be more than just a dom, more useful outside of sex, and actually support you. Because you've got a hell of a future, Freed, something so great and important, I could never compare, and I ain't about to try. I want to be part of your future, because you're all I see in mine."

Freed buried his head deeper into Laxus' bare chest, struggling against joyful tears.

"I dunno what to do yet, but I know what _not_ to do. I gotta stop dicking around, gotta clear up some loose ends in my life, and I can't do shit that will put you in danger. Working in fetish clubs, paddling people in public, that's gonna look bad on you. I've already got a fucked up past, but I can try to make my life better. I gotta be more aware of how visible you are to the world, and realize I'm not the only one who looks at you and admires you.

"You said it before, and you're right. You're a public figure. They're gonna look at you and those around you. They'll look at me, and one of these days some asshole will come forward. They'll say what I used to do, and I can't lie about it. But how I see it … yeah, I was a demon, I played at being a dom to make cash and get in practice on how to torture, but you … you're my angel. You saved me. I ain't ashamed of being a dom, but I'm ashamed of _why_ I did it. You gave me life and purpose. I gotta prove that you're truly my saving grace. I gotta show that I'm on that straight and narrow path now. Even if we keep doing stuff in the bedroom, we keep it to the bedroom. Maybe we tone it down from time to time and go all out only when we know we can. If you gotta stop BDSM for a while because of a photo shoot and you can't have bruises, I gotta learn to hold back. If you _need_ it, though … I need to know I can still do it and not feel guilty. The only sure way to do that is to only do it with you, no one else, never again."

He kissed Freed on the forehead. How often had he said _Only you, Greenie_, and yet up until now it had not been _only_ him. That was going to change.

"If I only touch you, then I know it's okay, because I know you like it, you want it, and I wanna give it to you. Fuck, I want to! Only you, though. No clubs, no shows. We'll figure something out if you want public humiliation. I like showing you off, but … there's no way in hell I'd put you in trouble."

"But do you think you're okay with BDSM now?" Freed asked. "I mean, I'm okay without it, but … sometimes…"

"Sometimes you need it, I know," Laxus said in understanding. "If it's only with you, if I never do it because of any other reason except to please you, then I think it's gonna be okay."

Freed wrapped his arms around Laxus. "I don't want to seem like I only want you for sex."

"I know that's not it," Laxus whispered, stroking his hair. "If it was just about sex, you've got money, you could hire someone better than me, more skilled, less risky. You stay with me, though. You stay despite all the bullshit we've been through, what with my dad and your father and the _history_ and … and everything! If it was just about sex, you'd do the smart thing and ditch me. Instead, you're doing something damn stupid: you're sticking around. You begged me to not give up on you. You were crying. That … shit, I don't ever want to do that to you again," he said in anguish, "but it showed me it's not about sex, it's not about kinks and bondage. You really want me, and that's … that's damn awesome," he laughed with tears choking his throat. He yanked away and rubbed the stinging in his eyes. "Fuck, I need to shut up."

"We needed to talk," Freed pointed out.

"Yeah, but I feel like I've said more romantic shit in five minutes than I've ever said in my whole life."

Freed grinned up at him. "Maybe I need to hear your _romantic shit_ once in a while."

"Fuck that. I'm no good at this."

"You're doing an excellent job," he teased. "Still, we're talking and you're soft again." His hand slid between their bodies. "I need to stir you up."

_Holy fucking shit_, Freed looked like a demon of sexual desire! It left Laxus' throat dry for a moment. He had to gulp down before he could talk.

"Are you good for a second go?"

Freed's body pressed up against Laxus. "I'm good for as long as you command, master."

Laxus hissed as hearing Freed using that sensual voice again made his cock twitch.

"Mmm, seems _this_ is good to go, too," Freed purred, playfully fondling the cock as it began to lengthen again.

Laxus' lip trembled at the stimulating touches. "Ya left me hanging."

Freed lightly licked his lip. "Master never gave me the chance to finish."

Laxus smirked, knowing Freed's overpowering virility had defeated him once again. "Gather the clothes. Open up your dungeon, you little sex slave."

"Mmm … yes, master."

Freed obediently went around the elevator, collecting the clothes that got tossed aside. Then he went out into a hall and opened the playroom. They entered and turned on the lights. The room was as pristine as ever, as if no one had ever used it. Freed walked in and laid the discarded clothes aside, then removed his own shirt, which was hanging off his shoulders by now. He walked fully nude to the center of the room and got onto both knees.

"Treat me as your slave," he requested. "That's not abuse. It's roleplay. Please, master. Starting now, make it only about me. Say _only you_, and truly mean it."

Laxus looked at him, so eager and desirous, and he cursed under his breath as he was reminded how weak he was against his sub's sexuality. He saw a simple black collar to the side, grabbed it up, and strode over to where Freed was kneeling.

"How could I possibly say no…" He reached out and cupped Freed's chin, lifting it. "…to such an obedient and eager slave?"

He wrapped the collar around and buckled it against Freed's gulping throat. His stern but devoted eyes gazed down at the erotic sight. He placed a large hand on the side of Freed's head. Then, more gently and earnestly than he had ever said it before, he spoke the words he had said many times.

"Only you."

Freed leaned into that warm hand and sighed with overwhelming happiness.

"What do you need?" Laxus asked seriously.

He was the sub. He had to set the boundaries. "Nothing to leave visible marks. I'll need to sit through lunch with my family, and I have a staff meeting on Monday."

"Got it." That meant spanking had to be a minimum, and nothing that might leave redness on his arms, neck, or face. Laxus made that mental note.

"Besides that … give me your worst. Do it as hard as you can, as much as you can give me, as sadistic as possible. Make me scream, cry, and tear apart all this pain inside my heart. Make it all pour out. As hard as you want, but only as much as you're okay providing. I need to know your limits. I need to know _your_ boundaries. So you have full permission to push me to the point where I need to use a safeword. I _urge _you to push me that far. Show me how much you can give me and still be mentally safe."

Laxus' face went cold. "I can be really harsh."

"I know," Freed said with confidence.

"I can be _really_ cruel."

"I need it."

"I could _break_ you, Freed," he warned.

He reached up and placed his fingers on a trembling fist. "I trust you to put me back together. I _trust_ you, Laxus. Fully and completely. I'll stop it before I break, and if I do crack, I know you'll hold me together."

The shaking fist stopped, his fingers loosened, and he took Freed's hand with a strong grip. Laxus smiled lightly, amazed to have this much trust bestowed upon him.

"Hell yeah, I will," he promised solemnly.

"Then indulge me. Let me lose myself." Freed let out a weary laugh. "After this week, I rather _need_ it."

Laxus understood what he meant. After such a hellish week of emotions, they both needed to lose themselves in each other, escape from the world and create their own world, a fantasy where Freed was the slave and Laxus the sadistic master. He adored his slave and tormented him out of love. It was a world they slowly sculpted together, starting that first night together, gradually building walls, tearing down barriers and building new ones, expanding into new ground, and elaborating wherever they could. It was _their_ world, away from strip clubs, mansions, businesses, messed-up fathers … just them. Just the deepest, most unshakable love and complete, utter trust.

"You need it," he repeated. Laxus grabbed Freed's face, lifting it while gazing down with sadistic sensuality. "Then I'm gonna give it to you … _hard!_"

Freed shivered at that deep voice, but a sly smile rose to his lips.

Master was back!

**Next Chapter: "Make My Angel Fly"**


	53. Make My Angel Fly

_"You are the one, I should've know_  
_That our love only could've grown..._  
_I really want to, I've got to try,_  
_And tonight I want to make my angel fly."_  
_— Allan Hurd_

* * *

Chapter 53

**Make My Angel Fly**

Freed stayed on his knees, his eyes to the ground in submission, as Laxus slowly circled him. That large, rough hand constantly touched him, trailing around his body, over his shoulders, along his neck, swishing through his long hair, and then around front to his chest, brushing down and scratching over his nipples.

"Now, what do I do with you?" Laxus wondered, making his slow rounds. "Y'know, this room has a lot of things in it, things we don't have at home, things we can do here that we just can't do in an apartment. Doing the same thing we always do, well, that's no fun," he said dismissively, then smirked. "How about we try something new?"

"Like what?" Freed asked, curious but also apprehensive. He was always up to new avenues of pleasure. It was thrilling to try fresh ideas.

"Dunno yet," Laxus muttered, continuing to circle him and stroking his hand along Freed's body. "You gave me some restrictions. I have to work within those guidelines."

Freed flinched in shame for putting that sort of burden on his master.

"Hey." He knelt in front of Freed and tipped his chin back up. "It's fine. Gives me a good challenge. How do I pleasure you—" His fingers scratched down Freed's chest, earning an erotic grunt. "—but not do certain things?" He looked down at Freed's body reacting to his gentle touches while promising pain to come. He chuckled sadistically as he circled a finger around an erect pink dot. "Your nipples are getting hard just from me rubbing you."

Freed's face went bright, but as he looked down at his chest, he saw Laxus was right to point it out. His nipples had wrinkled up into stiff points, and every faint touch sent jolts through him. "You haven't touched me all week. I'm a little sensitive," he said in accusation.

Sensitive, huh? He thought about how sensitive Freed used to be, coming in his pants and struggling to last even ten minutes. So untrained and naïve! Now, although he came in the elevator just minutes ago, his cock was long, although it had not raised up again. His nipples showed that his body was a powder keg of lust, and Laxus wanted to watch him explode again and again.

"Well, this is giving me some ideas," he admitted, plotting the things he could do. Oh so _many_ things! However, he had to work his ideas into Freed's needs. "Hey, timeout real quick."

Freed yanked himself out of the role of slave and looked up in confusion. Rarely did Laxus call for a timeout.

"That meeting you've got on Monday, can you wear long sleeves?"

It took a moment for Freed to switch back into the businessman, at least long enough to think about corporate meetings. "Y-yeah, I'll be wearing a business suit."

"Okay. So just not on the wrists?"

Freed still looked only half-aware of what he was asking.

"If I give you a mark on the mid-arm, would that be okay?"

"Um … y-yeah," he muttered, slowly returning to real life. "I'll just have to not roll up my sleeves, but yeah, at least for the meeting it should be okay."

"Good. The marks should be gone by then, but just in case."

Marks? On his mid-arm? "Wh-what are you planning to do?"

"Something I think you'll like." Laxus ran his hands along Freed's arms, as if judging the right location. "Something we've never done."

"What is it?" he asked, eager to explore new pleasures.

Such fearlessness amused Laxus. "Can't tell ya or it'd ruin the surprise. I can tell you one thing, though." He looked Freed straight in the eyes. "It _will_ hurt … and it'll be scary as hell to you."

Freed choked up a little. "Scary? H-how?" Of all the things they had done, never was anything scary. Painful, humiliating, embarrassing him to the point of sobbing, but never had their play involved _fear_.

Laxus had a mischievous smile. "Can't tell ya," he said, not giving away any hints.

Okay, Freed supposed saying anything would ruin the surprise. "Is … is it going to be _really_ painful?" he asked, slightly worried now.

"Nothing permanent or that will leave deep marks, but yeah. It'll hurt like fuck. Not so much the body, but the mentality will make it worse."

Freed had to calm himself. Laxus would torture him on a psychological level this time. Maybe that was what he needed to do: less physical, more mental. It was new, and already it was a little scary, walking willingly into the unknown.

"I told you, give me your worst," Freed whispered, firming up his resolve.

Laxus clasped Freed's shoulders and leaned in close, staring sternly. "I will not let you be harmed."

He jolted at just how dire Laxus sounded.

"I _need_ to tell you that," he insisted. "I _will not_ … let _any_ harm … come to you. It'll hurt, but I will not let you get injured."

_Holy shit, what is he planning to do?_ To need to reassure Freed of something that was basic for BDSM—pain was okay, but actual harm was not acceptable between them—made this so much more terrifying already. Whatever it was, it warranted this sort of forewarning.

"You're scaring me," he admitted with a hard gulp. "What are you planning?"

Laxus' eyes softened, and he looked over Freed's body, tracing his fingers in certain places, as if still calculating something. "I want to make you my angel."

_Angel?_ Freed's face crunched up, trying to sort out what he meant. Laxus often called him an angel. How would he _make_ him an angel?

"What I had in mind…" His finger trailed over the black collar and got a thick gulp out of that slender throat. "…was to tie you up, bind you. Your arms." He caressed areas of Freed's forearm. "Your legs." He ran his fingers up Freed's muscular thighs. "Completely immobilize you. Leave you at my mercy."

Freed shivered at the touches and the thought of being utterly reliant on Laxus. Being in bondage, being helpless to move at all, made his heart race. He licked his lips as he pictured it in his mind.

"Well, I like the sound of it," he said with an impish gleam in his eyes.

"Good. And then…" Laxus leaned in to whisper into Freed's ear. "…I'm gonna scare the living _shit_ out of you!"

The erotic image shattered with renewed fear. Seriously, _what_ was he planning? Freed pouted as he began to doubt this idea. "I hope that's not _literal_."

Laxus leaned back and laughed. Sassy little bitch! "Hopefully not," he agreed. Then he cupped Freed's face and asked in a serious tone, "Ya wanna try it?"

He had full confidence that, whatever it was, Laxus would make it pleasurable. Even if it hurt, even if it was scary, he would be with Freed the entire time, and it would end with ecstasy.

"I will do whatever my master commands. Anything _you_ can handle."

"Yeah, this is pretty extreme," Laxus admitted, not about to lie about it. "Which is why I want your permission, why I need to assure you I won't harm you, and why I want to set a different safeword."

Freed rolled his eyes. "Another?"

"You might not be able to speak, and in your mental state, I _doubt_ you will remember _In A Gadda Da Vida_."

Okay, he had a point. The one time they used that as a non-vocal safeword, not only was it too long, but it was hard to remember which song to hum. When his brain slipped into subspace, everything else blurred.

"So, we're going to do something simple. You make any noise you can: a grunt, a scream, _any_ noise. One long, three short."

"Okay…"

"_Any_ noise," Laxus emphasized. "One long, three short. So when your mind is way out there," he said, combing his fingers through Freed's hair, "you can't speak, and you can't think, remember that. One long, three short."

Freed firmed up and nodded. "Got it."

"Okay." Laxus pushed himself up to his feet and walked over to a dresser set against the playroom's wall. He opened up a drawer and began to dig through. "Let's see. No. No … nah, that'll hurt like a bitch."

Freed tried to watch, but he had not yet gotten permission to rise off the ground.

"Ah, this type's good!" Laxus pulled out a few coils of rope. As he brought it over, he saw Freed eying the coils with a hesitant face. "We've never worked with rope together, have we?"

Freed tried to think back. He was pretty sure they did not own coils of rope at all. "I don't think so. You've only used your tie or belt to tie me up. Or handcuffs," he said with a private smile.

"Then you're in for a nice treat. Stand up."

Freed rose and stretched out the stiffness in his knees. Laxus took one coil and dropped the rest. He unraveled the rope, running it through his hands to make sure it was still smooth. It had been kept in good condition, clean and treated, supple and soft. He hated to remember back to that time, but he had used these ropes on Llewellyn. He knew their strength and picked one that would serve his purpose but not leave deep marks or irritation on the skin.

"Put your arms behind your back, hugging your elbows, forearm to forearm."

Freed obediently got into position. "Like this?"

"Almost." Laxus adjusted his arms, feeling over the bones, making sure they were in the right location. "Good. Now, loosen up." He swung the end of the rope over his back to free his hands. Then he massaged Freed's shoulders. "Stay relaxed," he instructed. Laxus kept kneading out the muscles until he felt the tension loosening. "Good. Stay calm while I do this. I sure as hell don't want you to tense up and then the rope ends up being too loose."

Freed let out a calm stream of air and let himself drift. Laxus would tie him up. He had seen pictures of rope bondage. The designs were always so beautiful, works of art. He was the canvas, and Laxus was going to paint an erotic picture with him.

Laxus walked around behind Freed and began his work. The sound of the rope coiling around, the feel of tightness slowing binding the forearms—he kept it off the wrists—was meditative to Freed. He felt himself slipping already, plunging into a place where he was helpless and reliant on Laxus. He could slide away from stress and know he was safe. Laxus would never let his slave come to harm.

As Freed felt the coiling continue and his mind drifted, he made a slight groan.

"Too tight?" Laxus asked, freezing his movements.

"Uh … n-no." He closed his mouth, which had begun to hang open without him even realizing it.

"Listen up. If you feel any tingling or numbness, let me know _right away_. I'm not exactly sure how tight to make this for you." He continued to thread the rope around.

"Hav-…" He bit back the question. He did not want to sound like he was accusing Laxus of anything. Instead, with a haughty pitch to his voice, he said, "I hope you've done this before."

Laxus paused, wary about how to answer. "Yeah," he replied, wondering if Freed already guessed that he had done this to Llewellyn.

Freed straightened up and nodded sharply. "Good. I wouldn't want an amateur."

Laxus let out a single barked laugh. Damn, how could this guy be so accepting? Then again, Freed had always been this way. From the beginning, he knew Laxus had experience in certain activities. From that first night together, it was part of who he was, and Freed accepted him even back then.

"All right, across your chest now. Try to relax."

Freed took a few breaths and nodded when he was ready. With diligence, Laxus wrapped the rope around, coil after coil laid down carefully, lined up with the previous coil. He secured the rope at times with a knot, then wrapped more.

"Okay, like this … then here … crap, how did this part go … oh, right, this way … then up through here. Yeah."

Freed felt the rope binding above and below his chest, around his shoulders, avoiding the neck. Laxus kept feeling his skin, making slight adjustments. Freed stood there on display, waiting for his master to finish.

"You know, there's a word for this, something Japanese, you'd probably know it."

_Shibari_, yes, but Freed kept quiet. The feel of the rope was starting to get to him, and it took concentration not to tense up and panic at the sensation of losing mobility.

"They make a whole art form out of this, how to _properly_ bind a person, decorative knots, all fancy and shit. _Then it goes over heeeeere_…" he said to himself, securing another hitch in the rope. "I'm not normally into fancy crap, but you definitely want something tight, sturdy, but also something that won't hurt … and something that _will_ hurt in the right places. So sometimes learning that fancy shit helps. They make things sturdy—" He gave a tight tug as he came to the end of the first rope, yanking Freed's arms up closer to the neck. With it, all the rope coils shifted, reminding him of how much had been tied around him. Freed gave a moan, and Laxus paused. "Ya okay?"

"Y-yeah!" He gasped, feeling incredible, intense, exhilarated more than he had felt in a long time.

"Seriously, are you okay?"

Freed calmed down. Master was there. No harm would come to him. Sedately, he said, "Yeah."

Laxus watched him, but Freed looked like he was in meditation. How incredible it must feel! Laxus also felt himself slipping into the role of a dom, and he picked up another coil of rope, testing it out first. He began to wrap this part around Freed's waist.

"They make things sturdy," he continued as he coiled, working this part a little faster since he was used to it. "…and sometimes a well-placed knot—"

Freed felt the rope slip between his legs, and he looked down in surprise as Laxus threaded it through to the front.

"—can feel _really_ good!"

He yanked, the rope spread Freed's plump cheeks, and a knot lodged right against his asshole. Freed gasped, but Laxus kept on working, being careful as he wrapped around the groin and thighs. He put pressure in the right places, kept it away from dangerous areas, and made sure the coils lined up to distribute the pressure evenly. He knew how to tie a hip harness, but this was still a delicate area for men. He made sure it was snug but did not at all restrict blood flow.

"All right. Now for this next part. Everything feeling okay?"

Freed moaned and nodded fervently. More! He wanted to be bound up more!

"If it's feeling too tight—"

"I know," he shot in. "I'm fine, just … I think … it's starting to get to me. Mentally. I'm … slipping."

"Goooood," purred Laxus. He took a third coil of rope and continued to tie. "I want you to slip into your little place," he whispered as the rope went around, over, under, tighter, _more_. "I wanna wrap you up, so you can slide into that spot, lose yourself, and be safe. I want you to feel free, safe here with me. I am right here with you, and I will keep you safe from harm."

Those promises relaxed him. Freed felt the rope, but he feared nothing. It was like Laxus himself was wrapping him up, every coil was his arms, each knot were his hands, covering Freed's body, little tendrils of Laxus smothering him in a secure embrace. It let him relax, physically bound but mentally freed.

Laxus pulled back and gazed at him up and down, admiring the way he looked. "God, you're sexy like this," he whispered.

His heart pounded with the power he had over Freed and the anticipation of what was to come. So much more! He wanted to take Freed further than ever before.

Laxus felt over the ropes, how they dug into the flesh, where areas of skin rolled out, puckered, some areas already showing pink. Laxus had to gulp to keep back the desire to kneel down and worship this incredible work of art.

"How do you feel?"

"I feel great!" he said breathlessly.

"I'm gonna tug on a few spots. If you feel any numbness or tingling, let me know. If anything hurts, anything burns, any pain that doesn't feel good, you let me know right away. It's important."

Freed nodded, knowing Laxus was simply making sure he was safe from harm. Did it hurt? He could feel the rope pressing into his skin, but not painfully. The multiple coils, knots, and various hitches all felt smooth and somehow natural.

Then Laxus began to pull on areas, smoothing down parts that were not quite as lined up as he liked, feeling over hitches to make sure they did not press against nerves, and sometimes just running his fingers over Freed's skin in admiration.

Freed gave a gasp at a ticklish area.

"Sorry," muttered Laxus. He forgot Freed had a ticklish spot there. "Do your fingertips still feel okay?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Let's bring you over to the mirror, let you see yourself."

He hoisted Freed up rather awkwardly to not mess up the coils and dropped him in front of a massive mirror against one of the walls. He stayed behind, resting his chin on Freed's shoulder, looking at him and how his mouth dropped at seeing his reflection.

"Look at yourself, Freed," he whispered, nibbling on his ear. "Look at you, all tousled up."

He gazed in awe at the symmetry of the ropes around his body. "That … actually looks nice."

Laxus blushed at the compliment and pulled back. "Yeah, I don't go for fancy shit, but this'll hold ya."

"No, really!" he insisted.

Freed had a thing for _shibari_, although they had never tried it before. He had figured Laxus would not know it, since it was a true art form, hard to learn, taking patience and finesse. He had wondered at times if he would even like it. It looked elegant but extremely painful, far more than Freed was willing to handle back then. Now he felt how soft these ropes could be, and how the pressure spread out. There was discomfort, but nothing painful.

"I … I look like … like a Christmas present." Freed laughed at the ridiculous way of describing it. Still, wrapped up in these elegant knots, he felt like a gift, a work of art, sculpted by Laxus' own hands.

Laxus also laughed and kissed Freed's cheek. "Yeah, you do," he said, glad that he approved of his work. He smoothed down the long, green hair and kissed his head. "My little Christmas tree," he said in admiration, and Freed leaned into the petting. Damn, too cute! "But ya know what Christmas trees need? Some decorations."

Laxus walked aside. Although these were technically Lewellyn's items, he knew they must have been sterilized properly. He was not about to use anything that had been _inserted_, but things that went on the outside were okay for now. Eventually, he would have to request that everything be tossed out; Llewellyn could keep his kink supplies in some _other_ room. They would start from scratch, all items theirs, not hand-me-downs. It would take a while to build up this sort of collection, but it was better when they knew the toys were theirs alone.

Especially for Laxus, it was more enjoyable when he used an item he had bought himself. In the past, any item a client wanted to use had to be provided. Laxus did not own any sex toys. He couldn't afford them! That first night with Freed, for some reason he still did not understand, he bought a toy to use, the electro-stimulator. Since it was something he specifically bought, that truly made it special. It was a first for him, and he was now addicted to the idea of buying things for Freed to use. He wanted to _fill_ this playroom with their own erotic toys.

For now at least, these would work. They were clean and safe.

He returned with a cock sheath. Freed owned one, even Laxus had used it his first time bottoming, so he knew this was something Freed liked.

"Good, you're not too hard yet." It made wrapping up the cock and balls in leather easier.

Freed gasped as Laxus snapped the ring around the balls and tightened the laces to the sheath, tugging it as firmly as the rest of the bondage wrapped around him.

"You've worn these before," he noted as he tied the sheath's laces into a bow.

"Y-yeah." Freed bought his cock sheath while Laxus was still in Greece, and they had used it a few times for fun, to help with holding him back.

"But you've never worn one with this."

Laxus had a small weight in his hand, and he attached it to a loop in the cock sheath. He knew Freed's own version did not come with this addition. Instantly, the cock that was beginning to fill and rise with restriction was tugged downward. Freed flinched as his penis now fought against the weight, wanting to curve up but being force down. It made his cock want to rise even more, and it began to struggle against gravity and the added weight.

"Are you okay?" asked Laxus.

"It's … heavy."

"Of course it is. It's gonna keep your cock down. Don't want you to rise _too_ quickly," he teased, stroking a finger over the exposed head now turning brighter with desire. "Seriously, if you feel any numbness in your dick, you let me know right away."

Freed gulped and nodded. "Y-yeah."

Laxus walked back over to the dresser of supplies and pulled out two more items. He hid them behind his back, smirking as he returned. "Well, that takes care of one _branch_, but I think this _Christmas tree_ needs some _holiday balls_."

Like an attacking dragon, he reached around Freed's chest, and two clamps bit down onto Freed's stiffened nipples. He let out a scream, and his body arched in agony. Not only did the clamps bite into his sensitive skin, but attached were swinging, weighted balls that pulled the nipples even harder.

It hurt! So bad! Tears beaded up in Freed's eyes, and he kept shouting as his body shivered with pain. He shook his head, wanting it, _not_ wanting it, hating it, _loving_ it.

"That … really hurts."

"Of course it does. Safeword," he reminded him.

Normally, he would have used a safeword and demanded that they be taken off, not wanting pain this intense; however, his mind was retreating more and more, further, darker, until he could escape everything. The pain carried him away.

"Try it out now," Laxus ordered.

"N-no, I'm … I'm okay," he said, still twisting his torso as if he could escape the sharp, biting pain.

"Do it. Make a noise: one long, three short."

Freed shook his head. He feared that if he used a safeword now, he really would demand for the clamps to come off. He did not want that, not yet. This was a level of pain Laxus was used to giving to others, and Freed wanted to give it his best shot. He would learn to handle it. For Laxus' sake, he would…

Laxus saw the stubbornness. Damn him, he knew Freed had pride a mile high! He grabbed the clamps, pinching them down harder, much harder, until Freed shrieked. He watched with pure, cold sadism as erotic pain turned into full agony, and finally Freed let his voice carry into a patterned scream, a long one, follow by three tearful short bursts. Immediately, Laxus released the pressure on the clamps and hugged Freed. He caressed him to calm him down, kissing his shoulders and upper chest in apology.

"That huuuuuuuurt!" whined Freed.

"Before I continue, I _need_ to know you know what to do," he explained.

Freed scowled and looked away. "That _still_ hurt," he grumbled, sniffling.

Laxus patted his head like a puppy, but it did not take away the petulant scowl. He would have to learn not to be so stubborn if he wanted to avoid pain.

He grabbed Freed's cheeks and turned his face back up to the mirror. "Take a good look at yourself, because you won't see this any longer."

He picked up an eye mask and slipped it over, making sure it fit around the head and did not pull Freed's long hair. Immediately, his little angel looked lost.

"Nice. Very nice," he whispered, stepping back and gazing up and down. "I'm just going to admire you for a bit. Stand there. Get used to the clamps."

"They still hurt."

"Of course they do."

That again!

Freed stood there, tied up, blind to the world now. Without sights to distract him, he retreated even deeper, locked up in bindings, forced to delve inward, to feel tiny and _feel_ the confines of his own body. He waited, wondering what Laxus would do next. As a minute ticked by, the cock sheath lowered more as he lost his erection. He was getting used to the nipple clamps, a fiery pain he could handle now. They actually felt incredible, a constant pain on his chest, keeping the erotic pleasure flowing without end.

However, it was a little too quiet in the room.

"Laxus?" he called out.

He did not hear even breathing, nor did he feel heat of his body nearby. Where was he?

He felt all alone in this blind darkness.

More time passed. Standing there, unable to move at all, was becoming exhausting. His body remained constantly on edge, and he could not shift his weight to help.

"Are you still there?" Nothing. "Laxus? Hello?"

His muscles began to make small spasms, trying to move, trying to get into any other position. That made him feel the braided ropes digging into his skin even more. The more he felt those binds, the more his body involuntarily tried to twitch away, until he was squirming without even realizing it.

"How long are you going to make me stand here?"

Still, not a breath.

"Laxus?" He tried again in a meek voice. "Master?"

Alone! Freed realized how vulnerable he was. He could not move, nor sit, nothing. He was trapped and all alone. His body pulled at the binds. His arms yanked to break free. His legs shifted as panic set in.

What was going on? Where was Laxus? He was alone, tied up, and it was terrifying. Freed began to fight the ropes, breathing harder. How could he escape? What if something happened to Laxus? Where was he? _Where was he?_

Suddenly, something warm crushed around him.

"Got you," Laxus said with a teasing voice.

Freed yelped out a terrified scream, and his heart felt ready to stop. Laxus had draped around him, but the jolt spiked up frustration in Freed. "You scared me," he growled, heart still racing.

He heard a low, rumbling chuckle in Laxus' chest. "Oh, this ain't nothin' yet."

Freed felt himself being lifted and carried. Laxus plopped him down somewhere else in the room. He felt Laxus' hands attaching more ropes. More and more. He moved swiftly, not at all gently. Freed heard a metallic rattling.

What was happening next? Why even more rope?

"Now, fly!"

Laxus shoved him in the back, and Freed felt himself falling. He screamed, fearing he would land on his face. He tensed up and prepared for it, hoping he did not knock out a tooth. Then his legs went up, his chest came to a sharp stop, and he felt himself suspended horizontally. He felt Laxus pulling on the ropes, lifting him higher.

"Laxus?" he screamed.

He felt a hand on his head. "I'm right here."

Freed shivered. God, it hurt! The ropes dug in deeper, but he felt secure. He was swaying midair now.

"Warn me!" he shouted, angry at being caught so badly off-guard.

Laxus smirked down at him. "Nope."

Like a puppet-master, Laxus pulled on ropes he had threaded through a ring attached to the ceiling. One set of ropes controlled Freed's chest, another his hips, and another his legs. Three tension points helped to spread out the weight.

Oh, this would leave marks! It would not cause him harm, though.

He made sure Freed was at the right height, then Laxus secured the ropes with the best knot he knew. These ropes could hold a lot of weight. They would not snap. The ring above was solid steel and bolted to a chassis on the ceiling. It would not collapse. He had wrapped Freed's body in plenty of rope, providing even weight distribution and multiple backups in case one knot slipped.

Although Laxus was confident in his skill, this was nerve-wracking. It was a huge test for him, to make sure he did something with BDSM that would not result in his lover being harmed.

Hurt, yes. Harmed, _never_!

"Now look at you. You're my angel. You're _flying_."

Flying! Freed was dangling on the ropes. He breathed hard as he felt lost in the air now.

"Although, you're a rather sinful angel, aren't you? Got these balls to tease me." He flicked the hanging balls on the nipple clamps, sending them swinging. Freed cried out as the pain he thought he had adjusted to reawakened with the movement. "Oh, and _this_ must feel interesting." Laxus flicked the weight that tugged Freed's cock straight downward. He gasped as the weight pulled and made his cock swing left to right. "Swinging back … and forth," Laxus said, flicking it again and watching Freed squirm. "You don't seem to mind. Looks like you're getting harder."

Freed was dizzy from breathing hard. His brain no longer even knew where to focus. The pain tugging his chest, the squeeze to his cock, the collar on his neck, the ropes … which ropes? So many ropes!

"It … hurts," he whispered.

"You know how to end it," Laxus told him.

Yes, he could end it. He probably did not even need a safeword. Just a request to stop something, to let him down, to remove the clamps, anything at all he requested, Laxus would oblige. Yet now Freed was curious.

How deep could Laxus send him? What all did he have planned?

He _wanted_ more. He wanted to experience it all. The pain was tolerable still; it was the curiosity that kept him tense.

Laxus' brow tensed as he watched for any signs. "I'm serious, Freed. Do _not_ hold back. That's something that scares me."

"I know," he blurted out, but he tried to calm down past the terror that clouded his mind, hanging like this, the constant fear of falling right there on the edge of his thoughts. "I can handle this," he said, trying to reassure Laxus with just his words. "I _won't_ fail you. I'll let you know."

"You sure as hell better."

"Yeah. It hurts, but I'm okay."

Laxus stroked his hair hanging down like a green waterfall. Freed said he wanted Laxus to push his own limits, and this was definitely doing it. Laxus felt on the edge of panic as well, knowing the dangers of suspension. All safety was his responsibility. Freed's pleasure, possibly even his life, was in Laxus' hands. He had to rely on Freed to tell him if anything was wrong, and he had to trust himself to make this into an adventure that would send Freed deeper than ever before. He wanted Freed to see the depths Laxus could take him. Maybe he would hate it, maybe he would get spoiled and crave more of it. There was no knowing how it would turn out.

Laxus was exploring his own boundaries as well. Would he like doing this with Freed? How far could he personally go? How far could he push Freed and still feel nothing but the deepest love for this man?

They were about to explore this new plateau together.

"So, now what do I do with you?" he asked himself, grabbing Freed's butt cheeks and kneading them, getting a hitched groan. "I could just sit here, gaze at my flying angel … worship you."

His tongue licked along the peachy softness of Freed's plump ass. He heard a gasp of shock and smirked. He really could worship him, like some holy idol. He laid gentle kisses up Freed's spine, all the way to the collar, letting his lips play across his bound skin. He saw the tenseness soothe out, and Freed allowed the ropes to carry him.

"Are you okay?" he breathed into Freed's ear.

Freed felt immensely relaxed with the tenderness. "Yeah," he said dreamily, imagining that he really was flying, and Laxus was kissing him all over in the clouds.

"Good." He smiled to see him finally finding the pleasure beyond the pain. It was incredible to watch how the things they did, seeking sensual thrills, also evoked such deep trust and utmost love. It was this aspect about BDSM that Laxus had to keep reminding himself about. Maybe this outcome was not what he originally wanted when he began to work as a dominant, but he found the _true_ pleasure of BDSM with Freed, taking him past just pain and into new worlds of bliss.

Laxus kissed the muscular shoulders, the bound arms, back down again, his tied legs, down to his feet and the ropes around his ankles. He kissed areas that bulged out of the biting ropes, and Freed whimpered at the tenderly sadistic adoration.

Suddenly, Freed felt like he was plunging. Although he had not moved besides faint swaying of the ropes, his mind was falling deeper, deeper, into a depth he had never felt before. He gasped and tried to fight it.

"Freed?" Laxus asked in concern, grabbing his legs just in case something was slipping.

He was breathing hard again, twitching against the ropes, against the mental falling. He wanted to speak, but the connection to his brain was short-circuiting.

"I … sl- … _nnngh_ … o- … okay … just … s- … sl- … It's getting to me. Slipping … s-s-slipping into … deeper. Whoa!" He had no idea where he was heading now: a deeper level, something more intense, further from reality, darker, warmer. The pain in his flesh lit his soul on fire. "Master?" he called out breathlessly. He felt terrified by this level of subspace, so far away from reality now. "_Master?_"

Laxus took hold of his hand and squeezed it while stroking Freed's head. "I'm right here," he assured.

Freed hummed, relaxing as he felt reassured. He was not alone here in the dark; Laxus was with him. "Keep touching me," he requested in a faint sigh. "Just … a bit."

Laxus kept a firm squeeze on his hand while he stroked Freed's skin, caressing his cheeks, wiping a bit of drool that Freed could not even think straight enough to swallow down, and reassured him with touches. He watched, aroused and enthralled to see Freed reaching this new level, the terror of it, how he eased into it, melting and letting it mold him.

Damn, what trust he had! Trust and love. In him!

"I'm gonna protect you," he swore. He tipped Freed's chin up and kissed his forehead. "I'm right here."

He would protect this man and take him further, so much further. So long as Freed wanted more, Laxus wanted to give it to him. He felt no fear, no second-guessing _why_ he was doing it. That gaping mouth drooling with desire was the reason. Giving Freed this much-needed escape from the stresses of life, _that_ was the reason. Taking pleasure in this, adoring him, journeying with him into newer, darker levels. _That was the reason!_

"Have you calmed down?"

Freed was floating in nothingness. Ropes kept him bound to a body, but his mind was far, far away. His voice was faint as he whispered, "Yeah."

"Ready for more?"

More? Deeper! How much deeper could he go? How far would Laxus take him? He wanted to know! He wanted to follow him into the depths of hell, as deep into the abyss as he would take him.

"Yeah," he answered, prepared for anything.

Laxus squeezed his hand tighter before letting go and walking to the rigging. "I'll go slow this time."

Focusing, Laxus lowered the rigging for the chest and yanked on the leg ropes. Freed dropped head down, and he screamed in terror at the sensation of falling again, this time feeling his head dropping. Every nerve in his body wanted to reach out and prepare for a horrendous fall, yet he could not move his arms. He really was falling into hell now.

"I'm gonna drop you some more," Laxus warned. "It'll be fine."

Then he moved again, lowering more, his legs yanked up, until the blood rushed to his head. He was perfectly upside down, and Laxus was right. It was scaring the _shit_ out of him!

Freed fought against the fear, knowing he had nothing to be scared about, Laxus would protect him. Still, he was screaming and crying out of pure instinct. He would fall! He would break his neck! But he felt so secure. Laxus swore not to let harm come to him. As he hung there, utterly helpless, he realized more than ever before that he had to trust Laxus with his life.

The ropes were all shifting, and Freed became painfully aware of the way they dug into his skin. He felt the ropes on his shoulders biting in deeper, until he felt like they might cut straight into his skin. He struggled, like a butterfly trying to break out of a cocoon.

"Freed!"

Shit! He was fighting too much. Laxus was used to old men, weak and eager for the terror evoked by this sort of maneuver. Freed was a fighter, he was strong, and he was trying to break out. Laxus heard the ropes creaking. He kept the three rigging lines in a death-grip and grabbed Freed under the shoulders, just in case he broke out.

"Freed, calm down. It'll only hurt worse. Breathe slower."

Freed was still crying and gasping, wiggling to break loose.

"Stop it," Laxus ordered. Freed still struggled, and Laxus heard the steel chassis rattle. "Seriously, stop!"

The command spiked through the terror. Laxus was ordering him for his own good. Freed stilled his body, but the pain was all over. That peace he found earlier was gone. He cried at the pain in his shoulders, but as his body ceased tensing, the sensation eased away. The more he slowed his breathing and accepting the new position, the less it hurt and the less terrifying it became. Still, it took a long time to calm down. Laxus did not let go of him until the tears stopped. Although the ropes were killing his hand, he needed Freed to at least calm down before doing anything else, either to cut him out of the ropes or let him enjoy the new sensation.

"Master?" he finally said, feeling his mind settling into this new depth.

"Can you handle this? Let me know honestly."

He sighed and smiled. "Yeah. Sorry. It's _really_ intense. I like it."

"Good," Laxus said in a rush of relief.

He kissed Freed's upside down mouth and slowly lowered him, letting the full weight ease onto the shoulders and chest harness he had tied up so diligently. Laxus rose and finally tied off the rigging. He rubbed out his hand. Holding Freed's weight with just one hand grasping the ropes had left pink marks in his palm. He shook out the pain and eyed the entire set-up. He tugged the knots, looked at how the harnesses were settling, and carefully eyed the shoulders in particular.

One reason he had blindfolded Freed was so that he would not see any of the worries in Laxus' face. Full suspension had many dangers, but it was also immensely intense for both sub and dom. Having this much control, and for Freed, surrendering all bodily control … this was a powerful display of trust.

In his past, Laxus had hated suspension. He had learned it only because it was so popular, many clients wanted to try it at least once, and some had a real fetish for being tied up. However, he knew this was not something he would do with his father, so he hated having to do it at all. Especially the knot work. That involved touching skin, and if he could avoid it at all, Laxus would refuse to touch clients without at least wearing gloves.

Maybe that was why he wanted to try it now with Freed. He knew this was an act he would never do with his father, which gave it that layer of safety. He had read about true torturous ways of suspension, involving body piercings or even meat hooks inserted into the skin. Now, _that_ was something he might do to his father, but this … such delicate knots, the smoothness of the lines of rope, the safety that had to go into the various harnesses—his father did not _deserve_ this sort of attention to detail. This was an act of consideration all on its own, which was why he hated to do it with clients. It meant giving a shit for their safety … although sometimes he dropped clients to the ground on purpose, especially if they were fat.

Doing this and truly wanting it to be a glorious act of utmost trust … that was something he could only share with one man: Freed.

"God, I gotta take a picture of you. Look at you," he said in admiration. "Your hair hanging down." He combed through the hair that now fell into a pile on the floor. "Your nipples being pulled to your chin." He tapped the weighted balls, and Freed groaned as they swung. "But look! I let your cock hang in the right direction." His finger circled around the head of the penis sticking out of the leather sheath, and Freed gasped at just that faint touch. Laxus laughed at the erotic blush on his cheeks. "Oooh yeah, I'm gonna take some nice pictures."

Freed felt humiliated. Pictures? Like this? He could not see himself, so part of him was curious. How did he look? He felt perverted for being so interested, though. He loved looking at shibari photography online. Now, he was a model for it, tied up, fully suspended, just like the pictures he had browsed.

Laxus found Freed's phone, since it had the better camera. He purposely turned on the sound effect so Freed could hear each snap. He took picture after picture, closeups of his nipples being tugged, the weight pulling at the cock sheath, his hair flowing to the floor, how deeply the ropes were biting into his shoulders, far away shots as well of the whole rigging, all the way around, the knots in front, on the sides, and the back, partly to show Freed the intricacy but also as a reminder for himself. This rigging worked really well, so he wanted to make notes on it and try it again some day. Then he even took a selfie with Freed dangling in the background. He took pictures in the mirror to show himself standing beside Freed, like showcasing a giant fish he had pulled out of the ocean.

He teased Freed as he took the pictures, commenting to increase the humiliation. "You're gonna like these shots. You're gonna really love this one. Look at that erotic face you're making. You can never have too many dick pics. So damn sexy. God, look at you."

Freed felt himself slowly twisting with the ropes, and although he was far away from reality, he realized he was having slight trouble. "Laxus … getting … dizzy."

Laxus stopped taking pictures. "You know how to end it." He sent all the photos to his email to be safe, then set the phone aside. He had forgotten that Freed was not used to this. He should not be tied up for long. He needed to finish up before he passed out. "Are you okay for now?"

"Yeah … I … I'm … gu- … good. I-I'm good."

"Okay." Laxus touched the top of Freed's upside down head. "Because I'm about to get rough."

"Huh?" he cried out. Rough? This wasn't enough?

"Well, you see, you're hanging at just the right height, and my cock…" He pulled Freed's head forward until his lips pressed against the tip of his arousal. "…never got the proper attention."

A blow job, upside down? Freed smiled, glad that finally he could pleasure Laxus in return.

Laxus rubbed his thumb over Freed's mouth. "Open up wide … bitch."

Freed shivered and licked his lips. "Yes, Master."

His mouth opened obediently, and Laxus yanked him forward. Freed could do nothing but hang there and accept it. The angle was bizarre, and yet he had no way of adjusting. He could only keep his mouth open, his throat loose, and take that cock however Laxus wanted it.

"Good," Laxus moaned, thrusting into his mouth and feeling the sheer power he had over this man. "You see, when you're like this, I can control where your head is." He pulled Freed in harder, ramming in deep until he heard him choke and felt the tightness of his throat. Laxus sneered sadistically as he pulled Freed all the way against him and held himself there, with Freed's neck thick from his cock thrust inside. "Plus, I think I fit down your throat better this way. Don't I, you little cocksucker?"

Freed could not breathe with that massive thickness blocking his air. He struggled, but he could not pull back. He was already lightheaded, and the lack of air was making him edge toward blackness. When he realized he truly could not take more, he groaned around the cock lodged in his throat, one long choking noise, three shorter grunts. Instantly, Laxus pulled all the way back, and Freed took a long, deep gasp for oxygen. His throat felt bruised already, and no amount of gasping would stop his head from spinning.

"Good," Laxus decided. Once again, he had been cruel just to make sure Freed could recall the safeword even this deep in subspace. He wiped some drool off his face that was sliding along the cheek toward the hairline. "Are you okay?" he asked, just to be sure.

"Uh-huh!" Freed groaned. His mouth stayed open, wanting more. God, he wanted that cock! If he knew where it was, he would have lunged for it.

"Oh?" Laxus asked slyly. "You want more? You're really a slut for punishment, aren't you?"

God, yes! Punish him. For walking out that door, for leaving him, Freed wanted to be hung upside down and choked with Laxus' cock until he passed out.

"Fuck, you're too sexy," grumbled Laxus. He grabbed Freed's dangling head and thrust in, not as deep as before. He was really in need to come now. Freed was incredible, erotic, and _fuck_ just having him want him this desperately, drooling and craving his cock so much, was overwhelming. So Laxus held his head still and face-fucked that mouth, moving his hips so Freed would not sway too much on the ropes.

"Oooh yeah," he shuddered. "Yeah, suck it. God … damn!"

Freed had a strong suction on him, and when Laxus did go deeper, it was like his throat kept opening, wanting him to go deep again. Laxus pushed in and felt himself slide into that narrow throat, but he did not hold there long.

"Fuck!" he gasped. He did it again, feeling that tightness. "Oh God, you are one _good_ cocksucker." He knew he was getting close, so he kept to shorter, faster thrusts. "You got a sassy mouth on you, bitch. Gonna _fuck_ that mouth," he snarled, pounding in. "Gonna fuck it hard, make you _take it_. Gonna … fuckin' … _fuck!_"

Laxus threw his head back as he came, clenching Freed's hair. He felt Freed's tongue rubbing, doing his best to give him the most pleasure he could. _Damn, so good!_ He felt himself spilling out and heard Freed gargle a little. Was he having trouble swallowing? Was he trying to spit it out? Fuck that.

"Nope, you're gonna swallow it!" He yanked out and grabbed Freed's face, forcefully clamping his chin up and covering his mouth, grinning cruelly as he struggled. "Drink it down, bitch."

Freed obviously tried, but suddenly he tensed up. His face turned purple, his chest went into spasms, and in a moment of panic Laxus realized his mistake. Some people simply could not swallow upside down. Freed was choking!

"Shit! Freed!" Laxus grabbed him up into his arms and yanked his whole body up, curling him into a sitting position. He yanked the eye cover off, pulled Freed's hair out of the way, and smacked him on the back. "Spit it out, now."

Freed let out a loud cough, and semen splattered out. He kept coughing, and the real fear of choking to death had him in tears. However, Laxus' chest was right behind him, and his arms held him up. One hand patted Freed's chest, hoping to help. Laxus was glad Freed kept his eyes shut against the sudden return of light, that way he could not see the terror in his face.

Goddamn, that had been _stupid_. If Freed was struggling to swallow, the _last_ thing he should have done was try to force him.

"Can't … can't swallow … upside down," Freed said between hard breaths.

"Yeah, now we know," Laxus said, keeping his voice low and calm, although he had nearly had a heart attack hearing Freed choking. He rubbed Freed's chest and wiped aside splatters of spit and cum. "Better?"

"Hold me." Freed still felt that real fear, not erotic, but honest terror.

Laxus shifted him up a little more so Freed could rest his cheek against the crook of his neck. "I gotcha," he said, holding him with one hand and stroking Freed's head to lean into his shoulder.

"Hold me," Freed repeated, lost and needing to know Laxus was there.

He began to kiss Freed's face, soothingly stroking his body. "You're safe. I've got you. You're safe now," he repeated, peppering him with kisses. "You're safe."

Freed's realized the blinder was gone. He could see only Laxus' neck, though. As he calmed down, he nuzzled Laxus' skin, smelled the sweat, and listened to his breaths. He sank into that endearing embrace and smiled to himself.

"I liked that."

Laxus jolted. "You did?"

"Mmmh," he hummed in pleasure. He raised his head and smiled with gleaming eyes to show he really had enjoyed himself. However, another cough shook his lungs. "I just can't swallow upside down," he said with a slight shrug.

"I'll never make you do that again," Laxus swore, and he kissed Freed's lips to seal that promise. "Are you okay?"

"Y- … yeah?" He laughed and snuggled in again. "Just a minute."

Laxus kept holding him, stroking Freed's head and kissing anywhere his lips could reach. Freed loved this tenderness, but he sensed there was more to come. For one, he somehow had to get _down_ from all this. He also reasoned that Laxus would not go through the trouble of tying him up just for a blow job. He must have more planned.

And he wanted more!

He was erect, he needed to come, and Laxus knew that. How would he continue to pleasure him?

"I'm good now," he assured. "Can … can you angle me so I can see in the mirror?"

Laxus nodded, and gently he let Freed down. He hissed as the ropes dug in once again, but the burning was familiar now.

"You okay?"

"Y-yeah."

Freed steadied his breathing. When his eyes opened, he saw the mirror, saw himself appearing to be upright with the rest of the world the wrong way. He saw how his hair tumbled to the floor, how the ropes secured him to a metal ring, and he saw Laxus' nude body. It was an incredible sight, and he realized he was giving Laxus one hell of a show.

Laxus glanced at the mirror as well. He wanted Freed to see himself, that glorious body of his tied up, his very own _Christmas present_ all decked out. He shifted behind him, kissing Freed's legs, along the back of the thighs, watching their reflections as he moved down, lips gliding over his skin. He laid a peck on one butt cheek, then on the other, and then he moved his face to half-hide behind the bound legs so Freed would not see him bare his teeth. Then he bit down on Freed's thigh.

He gasped and screamed at the pain. Then Freed felt another bite on the other thigh, and he whimpered as the teeth sank in.

"Oh yeah, that'll leave marks," Laxus said in amusement. His eyes flicked up to the mirror. "Good show, ain't it!"

Freed could not speak. The reflection showed him how helpless he was, but it was also mesmerizing.

"It's gonna get better," Laxus said darkly.

His hand yanked back, and he spanked Freed, sending him swinging on the ropes. Freed moaned with pleasure, but the rocking movement scared him slightly. He slammed his eyes shut as the world swung one way, then another.

Another crack filled the air, and his ass stung. Freed cried out, but this was a pain he knew so well. His cock was hard, twitching as the dangling weight reinforced the swinging movements. He craved more. More!

Laxus slapped his ass again. Already, the skin was turning pink. Freed never liked truly harsh spankings, but Laxus wondered how hard he could push him when he was already this far gone.

He slapped much harder, sending Freed spinning, but Laxus grabbed his legs. That was fun, but also it would be annoying to untangle later. He held a part of the hip harness and smacked Freed, much harder than their usual spankings. Freed cried out, but Laxus heard a soft, desirous "Yesss!"

"Fuck," he growled. He spanked the cheek. "Fuck!" He smacked harder. As he watched the skin color more and heard Freed's erotic moans, already he was getting hard, wanting him again. "So good." He smacked him again and watched his butt jiggle. "Goddamn you for being so good!" He smacked him hard and let Freed twirl on the rope. "Fuck!"

Freed was spinning out of control now, eyes shut because he knew he would get sick if he could see. He thought he heard feet stomping away, yet then his rope twirled him the other direction, and Freed lost his ability to visualize the world around him. He panted as his ass stung. The ropes were hurting. He would need to end this soon, he could tell already, so he wanted to know what came next.

He could not hear, though. Where was Laxus?

His swaying gradually stopped. He rocked a little on the ropes, but otherwise he just hung there for a solid minute.

"Laxus?" he called out, but he heard nothing. "Now where are you?" he said in annoyance. He listened, but heard nothing. "I'm okay, really."

"I'm admiring you," came a distant voice.

Freed opened his eyes again. It was hard to tell anything hanging like this, but he saw Laxus off by the dresser. Apparently, he had been getting one last thing, something in his hand which Freed could not make out hanging like this, but now Laxus was simply gazing at him.

Laxus knew this would end soon. Being suspended for this long could cause health problems. Still, he felt overwhelmed. He needed to calm himself before he acted too aggressive and truly hurt Freed.

"God, I'm so lucky." He walked forward, knelt in front of Freed, and looked right into his eyes. "So damn lucky. You're perfect. The best slave … no…" He stroked Freed's hair with tender compassion in his blue eyes. "The best _lover_ a man could want."

Freed's mouth dropped, but Laxus surged in to kiss him. It felt so weird, kissing like this, and it made both of them smile.

Laxus looked straight into Freed's eyes. "This is the end. It'll be heaven and hell. You're going to hurt like never before, and I'm gonna fuck you 'til you come in an ecstasy you've never known up to this point."

Freed felt weary now, hanging for so long. He nodded passively. He had made it this far, so he could take anything. "I'll tell you if it's too much."

"No," Laxus said, his brow furrowed in worry. "This isn't something I can stop."

Freed flinched. What did he mean by that? Laxus sounded worried, too.

Of course! Coming down off the ropes. Freed had read on one of the shibari websites he liked that being untied often hurt far more than being tied up. Laxus' face showed that already he was concerned. Freed felt he had to be the brave one now. He had to bear it, if only to put Laxus' fears at rest.

Laxus' hand rubbed over Freed's cheek. "I can't stop the next part, but I can hold you through it."

Freed closed his eyes. If he cracked, Laxus would hold him so he did not break. "It's what I expect of my master. I know you'll protect me."

That trust and confidence pierced Laxus' heart again. He kissed Freed, loving him with such intensity.

"But don't blame me," Laxus said with a sadistic smirk, "if I take great pleasure in listening to you _scream_."

He stood, yanked the rigging, and dropped Freed's legs. He yelped as he went parallel to the ground again, and the rush of blood to his head stopped, leaving him disoriented. Then he began to fall. Falling, lower, into hell itself. He felt the ground, first with his torso, then legs, then his chest and head softly landed down.

As soon as that tension was gone, fresh pain set in. The skin where the ropes had dug in protested and burned anew. Freed began to cry, and he sank deeper into the pain as his body convulsed.

"We need new rope anyway," Laxus muttered, pulling out medical sheers he had ready. He cut through the bonds, letting the ropes fall aside, releasing his angel from his cocoon.

As Freed felt the ropes separate and free him, his body reacted in a powerful way. He screamed as he felt like he was expanding far beyond his corporal limits, tearing free from flesh and bone. His mind that had been compacted into a tight and tiny place of darkness surged outward. He lost all sense of _what_ he was as the pain of release and the joy of freedom battled in his mind.

Freed kept shouting, and Laxus was pretty sure he was far gone. He untied the cock sheath, desperate to stroke him, hard again as he listened to Freed's howls and watched him convulse. He had put a condom on and lubed up while at the dresser, but now he felt like he could not hold back. He rubbed lube onto Freed, fingered his ass briefly, but the screams were too much. With a sneer, he grabbed Freed up.

"I'm going in," he warned, then eased him down onto his cock.

Freed felt a fullness in his expanding body, and arms around him trying to hold him together as everything felt light, gaseous. He could not think at all. Even if he could have used a safeword to end this pain, logic no longer worked. He was a being of flesh and nerves, nothing more. In that moment, the pleasure was a spark in the dark, a beacon leading home to reality. He felt the pleasure in his ass and the kisses mixed with bites on his shoulder and neck.

"L-Lax-…"

As soon as he heard Freed gaining control, Laxus released the nipple clamps, and his body arched again with a shriek.

It hurt! So much! So horribly! But Freed knew there was no easy way to release clamps like this. The pain of release was ten times worse than the pain of the biting clamp. He could only scream and handle the burning agony.

"Oh damn," Laxus groaned, fucking Freed's ass harder. "So good!"

Laxus bit into Freed's neck as he forced his hips up and down. He was about to blow, but he wanted to feel Freed's reaction once more. He clawed sharply down the pink lines on his back, making Freed shriek with pain over the tender, swollen skin. As soon as Freed tensed and howled with renewed pain, Laxus lost control. He slammed in hard and came again, crushing Freed into a hug.

"Fuck … oooh fuck!"

Damn, he wanted him. He wanted all of him. He wanted to see him smile and listen to him sob. He wanted to protect him and to make him beg for mercy. He wanted his trust and his love, but also his obedience and to be feared. He wanted it all, everything Freed had to give, and he would give Freed all he had in return. Everything! His love, his life. Everything.

"Nnngh! M- … Mas- … ca- … mo- … need … _nngh!_"

Laxus looked up in weariness, still trying to catch his breath, but he realized Freed was about to come. He just needed a touch, permission to release. Kissing one of the scratch marks, Laxus reached around Freed's body and stroked him, firm and fast.

"Now," he ordered.

That was all it took. Freed's body arched up like an angel returning to heaven after smiting the demons of hell. With a shivering cry, he shot out hard, splattering over the floor and dripping down Laxus' fingers. Almost instantly after that climax, he sank backward.

"I've got you," Laxus assured, wrapping him up in his arms. He kissed Freed all over as he clutched him.

"I … guh … da- … c-ca-…"

"I know," Laxus whispered, unable to stop kissing his neck. Freed was far gone, beyond any level he had yet to experience. Returning would take a while, and until he did, speech was lost to his mind. "I'm here. I gotcha. Enjoy it."

Enjoy it! Freed stopped trying to swim to the surface. He let the waves of pain and pleasure sweep over him. He gave up trying to sit on his own and went limp. Laxus held him up. When Freed leaned back, that broad chest was right there for him.

"I've got you," Laxus told him again.

Laxus had him, and he had Laxus.

This was how it should always be.

Freed had no idea how long he sat there. It felt like hours, days, lost in a world of his own, here with Laxus. As he calmed down, he turned his head up, wanting to see the face of his lover. Those electric blue eyes he loved so much gazed down at him.

Laxus grabbed Freed's cheek, and his eyes said what no language could convey, this deep love that went beyond sex or kinks or anything … this bond of trust that was so much stronger than fickle emotions.

They both leaned in and kissed. Their lips pressed together, not even moving, just holding that simple kiss as their bodies recovered. When finally Laxus pulled back and saw those turquoise eyes with their thick lashes wet from tears, yet gleaming with adoration, he knew something deep in his soul.

He wanted this man. Forever!

"That … was _incredible_."

Freed smiled, but he merely laid back onto Laxus' chest.

"Are you feeling okay?"

Always so thoughtful. "Yeah … I … think … m-my … heh … y-yeah," he said, unable to speak clearly.

"You still with me?"

"Yeeeeah … I … I'm … can't…" Speech was not back yet. He was still floating to the surface.

"I get it," Laxus said, petting his hair and amused at making this brilliant man a mumbling mess. He began to rub over some of the compression lines on Freed's arm.

"Ah-owww!"

"Just getting circulation back into you," he explained.

It hurt, but Freed sank into Laxus' chest. He simply needed to put up with it as he was gradually reminded about the limits of his body. He was no longer expanding, but shrinking back into the confines of skin and bones.

"There we go. Hey, you don't look so bad. No burn lines, that's a shocker considering how you were wiggling around. Might even be healed up by Monday."

"Mmh … that's … good … guess…" Freed felt sleep falling over him.

"Shh." Laxus kissed Freed's forehead. "Don't think about it yet. Enjoy where you are."

Where he was! "With you."

Not just in subspace; that was nice, but what made Freed feel so warm was who was here with him, holding him, protecting him. Master was here, and he could count on Master to keep him safe.

"That's right," Laxus whispered, laying kisses over Freed's brow. "Here with me."

He smiled sleepily and hummed with contentment. "Always."

Laxus jolted. Did Freed mean that? Maybe it was a subconscious thought. Did that mean, just how he wanted Freed forever, he felt the same way? Hell, Laxus had even asked Llewellyn for his blessing. Was Freed thinking about that sort of commitment, too?

He sure hoped so. Maybe it was bad timing now, but in the future … some day.

"Always," Laxus whispered, and he gave Freed a kiss on the lips.

Always, he wanted him. Only him! Forever, he wanted to protect him and make him smile. No matter the storms, Freed was his shining light. No matter the darkness, Laxus would blast away everything that stood in Freed's way. Together, there was no stopping them.

Laxus wrapped his arms around Freed's body, stroking him possessively and endearingly.

Always. Forever. _Only you!_

**Next Chapter: "For Storm or Shine"**

* * *

_A/N: Recommended listening: Janet Jackson's "Rope Burn."_

_**Audio Drama** (my poor cat freaked out when I was making Freed's choking noises. I had to pause the recording and reassure him I was fine): **chirb. it/KLAIAI**_

_I made a conscientious decision NOT to describe the precise rope technique Laxus uses, mostly because full-body suspension, especially upside down, is VERY dangerous and should never be attempted by amateurs. You can break the sub's neck or cause permanent nerve damage._

_Note that Laxus does some key things. He closely examines Freed's body beforehand and all through the process, feeling areas, making adjustments. For rope suspension, the rope handler has to be aware of the placement of nerves on the sub's body to avoid nerve damage. A bit of knowledge in anatomy is necessary to guarantee safety. Types of rope, thickness, material, braiding, durability, working load, tensile strength, etc., must all be taken into consideration. Thin rope can cause scarring, thick rope might slip, some materials will not hold up the weight of a human body. Never use cotton rope for suspension, but cotton works well for people with sensitive skin who don't want suspension. Even health issues have to be taken into consideration. __Diabetes, asthma, joint problems, hypermobility, arthritis, and fibromyalgia can all play roles in what should and should not be attempted._

_Remember, Laxus knows this room, he knows the quality of these particular ropes, he has done this to Llewellyn (let's just all agree __**not**__ to mentally picture that), and he has a lot of experience. He knows what to do and how to keep it safe. He knows Freed and how to work with him. What I'm trying to say is...  
_

**_Do not try this at home, kids!_**

* * *

_Websites to learn more about BDSM rope techniques:_

_theduchy =dot= com_

_twistedmonk =dot= com_

_ropeconnections =dot= com_

_hikarikesho =dot= com/eng/shibari =dot= php_

_erinhoudini =dot= com/rope-bondage-types =dot= html _

_kinkfriendly =dot= org/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/kinkfriendly_org_rope_101_compressed =dot= pdf_


	54. For Storm or Shine

_"It matters not what be thy lot_  
_So Love doth guide_  
_For storm or shine, pure peace is thine_  
_Whate'er betide."_  
_— Mary Baker Eddy_

* * *

Chapter 54

**For Storm or Shine**

Freed was not sure when he ended up on the bed. One minute he was on the floor in Laxus' arms, he had a sense of weightlessness again, although not fully aware of it, and when finally he opened his eyes and looked around, he was on the bed with Laxus beside him, their sweaty bodies pressed naked together.

Laxus stroked Freed's hair, watching him as he slowly returned. He did not urge him to hurry up. He wanted Freed to drift in that blissful place, far away from troubles. He simply watched him as his mind worked through issues of its own.

He had been harsh, binding him, spanking him, biting and scratching, leaving marks all over Freed's skin. Even now, the pink compression lines striped his skin, and they would probably remain there for hours. He had been sadistic, and yet … he liked it. More importantly, _Freed_ liked it.

All he wanted was to take Freed to a deeper layer of bliss. Watching him now, smiling in his twilight of consciousness, he knew he had succeeded. That calmed Laxus. Any guilt he might have about hurting the man he loved melted away with the contentment in his lover. Any mental depression buoyed with each lithe stretch and sigh as Freed found his way back into reality.

Finally, those long lashes fluttered, his eyes opened, and Laxus smiled as he saw Freed gazing up at him. He wanted to tell him _Welcome back_, except he almost wished Freed could stay in that space where reality was far away. Returning meant facing consequences. It meant going back upstairs, seeing Freed's family, going to work with all its stress, and Laxus had to face the harsh realities of unemployment. So Laxus almost wanted to tell him to go back, stay where there was none of that, stay in his safe little corner of subspace.

Freed was nearly done recovering, though. Without a word, he curled into Laxus and traced his tattoo. He was back, but he was still dazed.

Laxus watched those thin, strong hands and the light shining on the silver promise ring. He pouted as something pressed in his mind.

"Can we talk seriously?"

Freed hummed, still feeling light and carefree. He was not ready for anything _serious_. "I don't know yet. Soon."

"Just a question: yes or no." He reached down and stroked a finger over the silver ring. "Would your parents … disown you … if you married a man?"

Freed jolted up. "Ah?"

"Hypothetically speaking," Laxus cut in.

Freed still felt his heart racing. Hypothetical. Still, it meant Laxus was getting more serious about this possibility. Freed knew he had to face it with seriously as well. He shoved aside the shock and thought about it.

"No, they wouldn't do that. Hell, my mother tried to hook me up with a man," he said, thinking about Rufus and how his mother had pressured him into considering him as a suitor. "I'm pretty sure they realize by now, I _won't_ be marrying a woman."

Laxus nodded, looking contemplative. "Good to know."

Freed looked at his hand, how Laxus' thick finger rubbed the silver ring. He had no idea what to even say. Laxus was seriously considering _marriage_!

"Just something to think about." He felt awkward, but he needed to know. He could screw up Freed's life anyway, being who he was, the past he had. He did not want to mess up his life even more.

"Y-yeah," Freed muttered, biting his lip to hold back giddiness. "You know, it's good to talk about stuff like this … before one of us asks, and we … we _commit_ to something. We should … _talk_ about it, about what we want."

"Yeah," Laxus muttered. Talk about it? Did Freed really want to? Was he thinking about it as well? Laxus had thought about this a lot. He had not been kidding when he said Freed was all he saw in his future. He wanted that future to be with him alone. At the moment, that meant marriage, but he supposed there was more to it than vows. "Ya ever thought about kids and shit?"

Freed laughed softly at how awkward Laxus sounded, asking about fatherhood. "I've considered it," he admitted. "Maybe it'd be nice, adopting a kid. I never thought really _closely_ about it, but … it might be something I'd want someday, having a child to raise."

Laxus nodded, but his eyes stared out blankly. "I have no clue if I'm good with kids. Never been around them."

Freed supposed that was true. Laxus was an only child, and he had been working in the adult entertainment business for so long, not exactly the sort of places where he might meet children. "What about pets? Do you like dogs, cats … goldfish?"

Laxus shook his head. "Never had a pet either."

"Well, maybe we could start with that, and … one day … far down the road," he assured with a blush, "we'll think about … um … _other things_."

"Yeah, maybe," he said distantly.

Marriage! Pets! Children! A family! These were things Laxus never thought about a year ago. Now here he was, talking about the possibility of married life with a man he wanted forever.

"Maybe," he whispered, realizing he really did like the idea.

He could imagine it if he closed his eyes: Christmas in this house, decorations everywhere, hugging Freed in front of the Christmas tree as two children, a boy and a girl, opened presents. Laxus shook his head, ashamed by how stupidly _happy_ that vision of the future made him. But it was _here_. He often imagined his future with Freed would be in this mansion.

"I'm guessing you'll be living here in the future, right?"

Freed shrugged. "One day. I wouldn't move in with my father," he assured, "and he'll probably want to live here for a while, but he might get sick of the house some day, hand it over. One day, one way or another, I'll get it. Would that be okay?"

"Yeah, it's a nice place," he said, trying to sound nonchalant to hide that finding out the house really would be Freed's worked to reinforce that vision of raising a family together.

They were silent, each with thoughts and dreams of the future, slight blushes on their cheeks, awkward as they thought about just how _much_ they wanted such happy futures living together.

However, Freed's face began to tense up. As this possibility became more of a reality, something bothered him. He looked up at Laxus, bit his lips as he debating saying anything, but finally firmed up.

"Can I ask something that's on the personal side?"

Personal? After all this time, he wondered why Freed felt like he even had to ask. "Okay."

Freed scratched a pink rope line on his arm, unable to look up at him. "Have you had any contact with your grandfather?"

"What?" he exclaimed. What sort of question was that. His grandfather? What did _he_ have to do with anything?

"Have you told him … _about us_?"

Laxus had a blank face, and mutely he shook his head.

"He's the only family you have left," Freed pointed out. "I … I wouldn't mind meeting him."

Meeting … his family? Somehow, that seemed even more like a heavy pounding of reality than asking about children. "Truth be told, I haven't seen the old bastard in years. I don't even know what his phone number would be anymore."

Freed wanted to _meet his family_! The problem was, he had no idea where Makarov Dreyar was. He had heard rumors that he retired from the Fairy Tail Pub and went to some other country, but Laxus had no clue where.

"I guess … I could ask around, see if people in Fairy Tail know where he is … if he's even still alive."

"How about we do that? Try to find him, reconnect. I mean, I know I pretty much have a full blessing from my family if I … I … want to pursue _more_ in the future," he muttered, blushing with embarrassment. "I want to make sure we have a blessing from yours."

Laxus looked down in surprise. "Really?"

Freed laughed at the shock on his face. "Well, yeah!"

Laxus was honestly stunned that Freed would care about that. He knew how messed up Laxus' family life was, so he had thought Freed would never want to meet any of them. His grandfather had been his support in the worst of times, though. They had their conflicts, but Makarov always took him back.

"Only fair, okay," he decided with a surly grunt. He had asked Llewellyn already, after all. "I don't think he knows I'm gay, or bi, or whatever I am. I don't think he'd care much—he ain't that type—but I should break that to him first before bringing my rich-ass boyfriend around."

"Ease him into it, so you don't give him a heart attack?"

"Nah, the old geezer won't go down that easily. He's a tough little bastard," he said, chuckling proudly. "But yeah. Yeah, I should tell him, and you should meet him."

Freed leaned into Laxus and wrapped his arms around. "I'd like that."

Laxus hugged him and kissed the top of his head. "You'd be the first person I know since high school to meet my grandfather."

"Well, I'm honored," he said in amusement.

Laxus laughed and squeezed him, giving him more kisses. He saw Freed's hand resting on his chest, right over the edge of the tattoo. Laxus reached down and rubbed the silver ring again, staring at it contemplatively. Damn, he wanted this man! He wanted a lifetime of happiness together. He wanted it so badly, he boiled in his stomach and made him anxious for that future.

"Freed." What could he say? "Eventually, some day … I…" _Shit!_ How could he say this without bluntly _proposing_ to him?

"I know." Freed rose up and leaned over Laxus' chest, gazing down at him with an endearing smile and gleaming love in his eyes. "Me too."

Him, too!

And Laxus could see, Freed meant it in the exact same way. It almost brought tears to his eyes.

He really wanted this too!

Suddenly bashful, Laxus looked away. "Well, that's … that's good to know."

Freed held back laughing. Such an awkward man! "When the time is right."

"Yeah," he agreed, "but not right now. We're not ready. _I'm_ not ready! I need to straighten out my life a bit more before we do anything like _that_." He pouted and grumbled, "Hell, I'm not even employed anymore."

Freed tapped him on the nose. "Well, I'll have to find you a job."

Laxus laughed and wrapped an arm around him. "I know it already, you're gonna be the one protecting me."

"Maybe I should be _your_ bodyguard."

"Shut up." Laxus hugged him closer. He heard Freed groan a little and let go of the tight hold. "Are you feeling okay?"

He rubbed out the lines on his shoulder. "I feel like a dragon has attacked me. Are you sure nothing is bleeding?"

Laxus rubbed over Freed's skin. "Yeah. I think the worst are the bites and scratches. The rope marks should go away soon. By Monday, maybe the shoulders will still be marked up," he said, inspecting just how deeply the rope left lines on his shoulders, realizing those might actually bruise, "but the rest, they're just like pillow lines. They'll fade in a few hours. So long as you wear a long-sleeved shirt today, no one will see it. I kept it off the wrists."

"Thanks." Freed looked down, and sure enough, his wrists were perfectly fine. Although Laxus had taken him to the brink of what Freed could withstand, no one would know. It was thoughtful and showed how much Laxus respected him. Tenderly, he said, "Thank you, really."

"Thank _you_ for letting me go all out."

"I liked it," he said slyly, but then he collapsed back onto the barrel chest, "but probably not that much all the time." He still felt sore, exhausted, and buzzing on the sensual high.

"Nah. I'm not sure if _I_ can handle it." Laxus shook out the hand that still had rope burns stinging in his palm. "This is nice, though."

"Yeah." It was nice, like a treat you get only once in a while.

Hearing all of this—the appreciation, the thanks, the sighs of contentment—were what Laxus needed. He hugged Freed a little closer. After a week of self-doubts, of asking himself why he got into BDSM, if he needed it, and why he liked to do it to Freed, this was the answer to it all.

He got into it for all the wrong reasons, yet over the years he came to like it. Did he _need_ it? Probably not with others, but with Freed the whole thing was different. What he did in the past was purely about technique and catharsis. What he did with Freed was about trust, bonding, and helping his lover seek mental freedom. Laxus _needed_ the thanks and praise to validate what he did, to know it had meaning, and that it was something Freed wanted.

What a needy dom he had turned out to be!

He tipped up Freed's chin, and the sleepy face gazed up at him. This spoiled rich boy had ended up spoiling him … and Laxus loved him for it. He leaned in, Freed stretched his neck up, and their lips met. The kiss was his own silent thanks and renewed oath to only want him, only need him, and only love him. It was Laxus' way of reassuring himself, he did this out of love. They were drifting back to Earth after flying together, and when they left this little slice of heaven, what followed them back into reality was all the love this kiss represented.

Anyone could be BDSM partners—friends, clients, total strangers—but they were more. As Laxus caressed Freed's head and pulled him to lie on his chest again, he knew they were _more_ than dom and sub.

He loved this man … so much it flustered him.

Physical exhaustion began to take its toll. Laxus had hardly done anything that week, and his muscles were feeling the effects of atrophy.

"I almost want to fall asleep," he admitted, "but we probably need lunch."

"We just finished breakfast. We have time."

Still, Laxus wanted to clean up before they fell asleep and were then called to eat with Freed's family. "There's a bathroom adjacent. Has a nice tub. Never used it. Wanna give it a shot?"

The idea of a bath with Laxus made Freed giddy inside. He muttered an agreement, but as soon as he did, huge arms lifted him right off the comfortable bed. He flailed out in protest.

"I can walk."

Laxus strode to the bathroom with his lover in his arms. "No you can't."

"I could…"

"Shhh." He smiled down at how stubborn and proud Freed could be. "Trust me. No, you can't."

He pouted and looked side. To Laxus, it was adorable to see the high class gentleman returning after his time being a slave.

"It's fine," Laxus assured, secretly happy to carry him around. "I like holding you like this."

Freed huffed. "I don't like being treated like a princess."

"Fuck no! I'm treating you like a _prince_."

Freed's mouth dropped. Laxus' … prince? That was even more embarrassing, but it also made him blush. Like some twisted fairy tale, Laxus was a wild dragon, and he was a prince, slowly training this wild beast, slowly gaining his trust, and in return the dragon would carry the prince into any battle and let him soar.

Laxus finally let him down on a bathroom rug. Freed sat on the toilet to clean up while Laxus filled the tub and adjusted the temperature of the water. Freed flinched at the pain in his ass. Laxus had barely prepped him, and Freed had been so lost in the throes of being freed from bondage, he had felt no pain at all at the time. Now, his ass hurt. At least Laxus had used a condom, so cleaning up was simple.

Once he was done, Freed glanced around the drawers. They all seemed normal enough, things that might be needed in a bathroom, although some of the items looked questionable and he figured were sexual. Laxus said he had never used the bathroom, which meant these were things _his parents_ used. Freed forced that idea out of his head.

There was a drawer with grooming items: comb, brush, hair ties, and he found some wood hair sticks he knew his mother liked to buy. Freed put his hair up in a bun and held it in place with a hair stick, that way he would not have to deal with wet hair at lunch.

Laxus took Freed's hand to help him into a massive bathtub built for two. He watched with a prurient gaze as that slender yet well-built body eased down into the hot water. Freed twisted around as he felt the heat loosen up the stiffness that had begun to set in.

"Water feel all right?"

"Yeah," he sighed, liking the soothing warmth on his sore muscles.

"A'right. Lemme slide in."

Although there was plenty of room for two, Laxus slid in behind Freed and wrapped around him, with Freed sitting between his legs. That was how they normally took baths together at home, but he realized there were even divots in the tub for two bodies to sit side by side. Screw that! He liked having Freed between his legs, lying back against his body, and wrapping his arms around him, rubbing the pale, smooth skin under the warm water.

"Nice and roomy," he noted, able to stretch out despite how broad he was. "We should have a tub this size back home."

"Sorry that ours isn't quite big enough."

"Che! Helluva lot bigger than the one I used to have. That thing didn't even fit _me_."

He thought about that dingy yellow tub in his old tenement, so small that he would have had to sit sideways with his knees bent up, if he even dared sit in the discolored thing. He had only used the shower, since the tub was ridiculously small.

Freed had brought him out of that moldy hell into a downtown condominium that Laxus considered to be too good for anyone. However, compared to this mansion, that condo must seem tiny to Freed, yet he had got it specifically with Laxus in mind, wanting to spoil him yet also probably mindful of _easing_ him into this higher tier of society.

Laxus knew he had a ways to go, and he probably would never be a refined gentleman. He used to despise the idea of people changing themselves to become something their partner wanted, but this time, he wanted to improve himself into being something he felt Freed deserved. Never had Freed requested that Laxus do anything more than be himself, but Laxus _wanted_ to be a better man.

For him! To support him! So he would never humiliate Freed … at least not in ways Laxus did not specifically want.

And one day, they would live _here_. That seemed ridiculous to Laxus. What the hell would they do with a house this huge? Still, if things worked out, if they stayed together, and if … some day, eventually … _more_ happened, they would live here.

That future seemed so impossible, and yet with Freed settled between his legs and their bodies pressed together in the water, it felt so _real_. They could make this work!

"God, I love you."

Freed glanced behind him to see Laxus gazing with intensity. "Love you, too." What was he thinking about? What sorts of thought ran through his head?

Laxus kissed his green hair. "I wanna spend every day like this. _Every_ day. Holding you." He rubbed his hands up and down Freed's arms. "I don't ever wanna be apart for a week again. Never!"

"Let's make that a promise."

How could he say that so easily? Laxus shook his head. "I don't know if we can. We should be honest." As nice as it sounded, their lives were too complex for frivolous promises they could never keep.

"I'm serious." Freed flipped around in the tub with a slosh of water, laid on top of Laxus, and looked at him earnestly. "If I have to go on a trip for work and I know I'll be gone more than a week, I'll fly back on the sixth day, and I'll spend at least one night with you, even if I have to go back. Same for you. If they ever do catch your father and you have to go, on the sixth day, come back to me, and we'll spend the seventh day together, just us." He cupped Laxus' cheek. "One day every week will be _our_ day. At least one night sleeping together every week. No matter what comes up in our lives, we'll make that one promise. _One_ day, at least one, is _our day_."

Normal people would never be able to make a deal about flying possibly halfway around the world just to sleep with their lover one day a week, but Laxus knew Freed was no ordinary person. He saw the seriousness in his face. He really would go to such lengths. It was only fair that Laxus put in the same amount of effort.

"It's a deal." He crushed Freed in a hug, not caring that he splashed water onto the floor. "God, yes, a deal!" He slammed his eyes shut as they began to burn with tears. "I need you so much."

"Same here." He relaxed into the hold and laid there, on top of Laxus, hugging around him as best as he could, resting his ear against his heart. Freed sighed in contentment and repeated, "Same here."

Freed had been raised to be independent and strong, quick-thinking and shrewd, harsh and practical. He had been raised with rules of society pounded into him every single day. He spent his life bound by those rules, tied up with responsibilities, unable to escape his fate. Maybe all of that contributed to his need for BDSM. He could have probably gone through life without it; he even could have continued without love, romance, remaining alone and fully focused on the company.

Now, he had someone who did not care about wealth and family connections, someone who loved him solely for who he was deep inside. Laxus used physical bondage to free him from the social bondage that had been wrapped tightly around him all of his life, and that escape from elite society was as intense as when Laxus had sliced apart the ropes.

Freed loved him for it, craved that affection more as the months went by, and he felt himself falling deeper in love with Laxus every day. He did not necessarily need BDSM, or even sex, but he knew deep in his heart, he _needed_ Laxus. He needed him … always. He could no longer imagine his future without Laxus there with him, waiting to embrace him after a rough day at the office, to ease away the stress, kiss away the worries, and care for him with deep love.

"Freed?" Laxus rubbed him to make sure he was awake. "Seriously think about it."

He raised his sleepy head up. "Huh?"

Laxus had a blush on his cheeks. "About … _some day_. Eventually."

"Oh!" Freed felt his face heating up. "Y-yeah. You, too. Really think about it."

Laxus' eyes softened. "I do. All the time."

All the time? Freed had begun to think that this was just the post-coital buzz making him talk this way. Had Laxus really thought about this sort of thing? Was someone so independent and wild truly willing to spend his life with one person? Did he really think about things like marriage, children, and a home together?

"Laxus?"

"Shh." He pulled Freed's head back down onto his chest. "Not right now. Just this," he said as he rubbed the marks on Freed's shoulders. "We're making up today. Let's do at least that right and not fuck it up."

"R-right." Freed laid on him, but he stared ahead as his mind raced.

* * *

"_I want to tell him. I want to ask him, right now! I don't want to lose him. But he's right. This is the worst time. Knowing he feels the same way is incredible. He actually … wants to marry me. Heh!_"

Freed bit his lip to hold back laughing with happiness. However, the giddy sensation faded with reality.

"_But we're not ready for that. It's a huge step. We need to both be certain that we can put up with each other, really make it lifelong._"

He was determined about that, at least. He would not plunge into marriage unless he was certain. The last thing Freed wanted was to be another divorce statistic.

"_I want to ask his grandfather first. I want to do this right!_"

Freed firmed up as he made that his next goal. They would find Makarov Dreyar, Laxus would reconnect with the last of his family, and one day Freed would ask Makarov for his blessing. That was the proper thing to do.

"_I'll wait until I meet him. Yeah._"

He set that as his goal. There was no rush. He and Laxus had not even known one another for a year, although that anniversary was coming up. Still, he should meet Makarov, get to know him, maybe have a few dinners together as a family.

When the time was right, he would seek out his blessing to ask Laxus to be his husband. They had plenty of time, but knowing this was even a possibility made Freed's stomach churn with indescribable joy.

Freed closed his eyes as he wondered: would Laxus take on his last name, or would he take on the name Dreyar? It was still the Justine Corporation, though. Maybe hyphenated? Of course, they could always keep their last names as they were. Still, Freed Justine-Dreyar had a nice ring to it.

* * *

Meanwhile, Laxus looked up at the ceiling and fought inner turmoil.

"_Oh God, I can't believe I said that shit. I meant it, hell yes! I even asked Llewellyn for his blessing, but to actually tell Freed! Shit!_"

He could hardly believe he even brought it up, and at a time like this. Worst fucking timing ever!

"_Now he wants to meet the old geezer._"

He looked down and saw Freed blushing and biting his lip to hold himself back. Idiot, as if he could hide anything from his master.

"_Freed, I know you too damn well. I know what you're gonna ask him._" He mindlessly rubbed Freed's arm. "_And I want you to. Goddammit! How is it, I've only known you for a few months, and already … I want to spend my life with you. How is that even possible?_"

It made no sense. Laxus had thought it was just him being a besotted idiot, some first-love stupidity and inner fears of being alone his whole life. Except now, he knew that Freed felt the same way. That changed everything.

How could love happen so quickly? How could you possibly meet someone, and in just a few months you think you want to spend the rest of your life with them? That had to be stupid, right? That sort of thing should take years!

Yet Laxus knew what he wanted. He just needed to know it was something Freed wanted as well. Maybe it was the endorphins talking. Maybe this was all post-scene euphoria, nothing more.

"_I wanna make damn certain, because if I marry you and you decide it was a mistake down the road … fuck, I don't think I could take that. I'd rather wait, get all this shit out of the way, all the fights, all the disagreements, get them out of the way now when we can separate and get back together._"

That was the smarter thing to do. He and Freed had issues to work out in their lives still, and they should wait. Plus, Laxus knew he would shatter if Freed married him only to leave him. He could not return to that lone-wolf life again, not after knowing so much love. He stroked across the wet skin in lazy happiness.

"_But I always want to be with you … for the rest of my life. Goddammit, I am so in love!_"

Laxus knew what he wanted in the future, and he knew they needed to wait. He would see his therapist and get some help for his issues. Freed would settle in to this new job and learn about the corporate world. They were happy together, loyal and deeply in love. That was plenty for now. Something like marriage was a huge step, one they could take together when they were ready.

* * *

He heard a slight snore and looked down in surprise. Freed had his mouth open, eyes closed, and he was slipping into the water. Laxus nudged him.

"Hey, no falling asleep."

Freed jolted out of thoughts of the future that were leading him toward happy dreams of white tuxedos and wedding cake. "Mmmh … sorry. The hot water feels really good."

"Seems to be helping your arms." Laxus saw the pink lines already fading. "You should ice it, too. Heat, ice, heat, ice…"

"Yeah, yeah," he interrupted, smiling at the way Laxus took care of him. He snuggled down into the muscular chest. "I'm liking this too much."

"Brat," he chuckled. "I should dowse you in a cold shower."

"Mmmh, noooo." He pouted and grabbed around Laxus tighter.

"Heh! Dammit, you're cute." Laxus loved all these sides to Freed: the haughty elitist, the commanding business magnate's son, the overwhelmed young man trying to carve a life of independence for himself, the whiny spoiled rich boy, the needy boyfriend, the tender lover, the adorable slave, all the complexities that made up Freed Justine. "Hey, we've got a few hours, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"Let's get out and take a nap. I didn't sleep well all week."

"Yeah." Freed slept awfully as well, which coupled with the soothing euphoria now and made him ready to drift off. "We can set an alarm."

Laxus guessed it was around ten in the morning. They still needed to have lunch with Llewellyn and Evergreen. "We'll only get two hours of sleep."

"That's fine. Just a nap. I wanna hold you."

They both moved slowly, muscles aching and fatigue setting in. Laxus dried them both off, then guided Freed back to the bed, with his feet shuffling along and sleepy yawns making him look like a green kitten. Freed took out the hair stick and let his hair tumble back down just before snuggling into the bed. Laxus pulled the covers over them both and spooned into Freed. He nuzzled the back of his neck and kissed shoulders, hair, anything he could reach.

To Freed, it was so perfect, being in this embrace, feeling that strong support at his back, how he fit into Laxus' body, like two pieces of a puzzle.

"I miss this."

"I miss this."

He heard Laxus say the same thing at the same time, and Freed rolled around with wide eyes, surprised at the unison. Laxus looked just as stunned, but then he turned his face aside with a surly blush.

"Dammit, saying each other's words."

Freed grinned and snuggled back down into the hold. "We've been dating for quite a while." He smiled childishly as he teased, "We'll be finishing each other's sentences before you know it."

"Shut up."

Laxus still felt weirdly happy about it, though. It was nice to know their minds thought the same things. He closed his eyes, wondering if Freed was thinking about _other_ thing … lifelong things. It was nice to imagine that maybe he was.

"I love you."

"I love you."

His words were perfectly joined with Freed's own sighed declaration.

"Shit, stop doing that!"

"I'm not doing anything."

Laxus kept his mouth shut. Dammit, it was too _cute_, and he felt too happy to sleep now. They really were becoming one of _those sorts_ of couples, who said things at the same time and finished each other's sentences. How the _hell_ had he ended up in a relationship that was so perfect, it was like a bad romance-comedy show?

Not that he minded. Hell no!

And he had almost lost this. He had almost pushed Freed away. He said horrible things, said he should have run away that first day together. He had been cold and harsh, and yet Freed took him back. Tears threatened to burn Laxus' eyes as he realized how close they came to losing this precious closeness.

"God! I'm so glad." He held Freed as if fearing he might wise-up and walk away.

"Me, too."

Freed knew exactly what he meant. He had walked out on Laxus when he was at his lowest. It took his own father to point out how stupid that was, and how dangerous it could have been to their relationship. Leaving Laxus alone in the midst of deep depression … he shuddered to think of all the ways that could have ended horribly, from Laxus running away to much, _much_ worse.

Freed rubbed over Laxus' promise ring. "Thank you for coming here, for being less stubborn than I am."

"Thanks for letting me come in. You could've left me sitting on the doorstep."

"No, I couldn't."

Laxus knew, he could have. He half expected it, too. He had been an asshole to Freed. Trying to win him back had been a gamble. He lucked out this time.

They both sighed together in unison: "Good night."

Laxus shouted with embarrassment, "Seriously, stop that."

"I'm not, you are."

"Shut up." He was grinning although trying to pout. His heart raced despite wanting to sleep. He felt so ridiculously happy, although an hour ago he had been at his lowest. Being with Freed made his life so much better, and he adored him for that. "Sheesh, how did we end up so disgustingly cute?"

"I, for one, am _not_ disgusting."

"Nah. You're perfect." Laxus kissed Freed's neck and snuggled in. "A perfect spoiled rich boy. A perfect boyfriend." He gave him another kiss. "Now, let me sleep."

Freed wanted to obey his master at least one more time before returning to real life. He said nothing more, closed his eyes, and heard heavy breathing behind him right as sleep darkened his mind.

* * *

Two hours later, awake, dressed (in a long-sleeved shirt for Freed), and looking perfectly normal, they ate at the large dining table, plates containing salmon fillet on rice pilaf with buttered vegetables. Laxus put in extra care to use the same utensils as the others, and to sip the white wine properly. Freed even reached under the table and squeezed his leg to show he was proud of the effort he was making, although this was only lunch with the family.

Evergreen took a sip of wine. "So you two had a misunderstanding over a _rumor_? What sort of rumor could cause _that_? Must have been terrible."

Freed cut into the fish and replied coldly, "I'd rather not say."

"I'm curious."

He glared across the table as her. "No, Evergreen." Such a nosy sister!

She shoved up her glasses primly. "Fine, whatever."

Llewellyn had a light smile, listening to his children and how some things never changed between them. "Well, I'm glad you worked it out."

Freed paused with the fish already halfway to his mouth. That sounded genuine, and given the history, he had thought Llewellyn might actually hope for a breakup. Saying that reaffirmed his approval of their relationship.

"Thanks, Father."

Laxus also looked impressed. "Yeah, thanks, Mister Justine."

Evergreen finished off her salmon and tapped a napkin to her lips. "I guess this means you'll be leaving."

"Oh … yeah." Freed glanced over to Laxus sitting beside him. "We'll head home together. Sorry we didn't have much time to talk."

"It's fine," Evergreen assured him. "I was thinking about heading out as well."

"Oh? Where?"

"Hawaii. I still have the rest of vacation. Cancun was just so _boring_."

Freed shook his head, pitying any man who had to try to keep his sister satisfied. "Don't fall in a lava pit."

"Oh hush!"

Llewellyn looked a little hurt that he had just arrived home only to have his children leaving. "You're not staying?"

Evergreen reached over, squeezed his arm, and said sweetly, "I can stay for a day or two just for you, Daddy."

Freed rolled his eyes. This was why she was their parents' favorite! As soon as he saw that Laxus was finished, he said, "We should be going." He pushed out his chair. Laxus gave up on propriety, gulped down his wine, and stood as well, sensing that Freed wanted to get out of that house as soon as possible. How weird it must be, to eat at the same table as his father and his lover, with Evergreen in the way so they could not even be honest about the awkwardness.

Llewellyn set his fork down and wiped his mouth on a linen napkin. "Thank you for staying for lunch. And I _am_ glad it worked out. I'll walk you to the door."

Freed jolted. "You don't have—"

"I insist."

He closed his mouth at his father's sharp interjection. It was the polite thing to do, so he could not turn down his father's offer. However, it took Evergreen out of the picture, which meant private things could be mentioned. He was not mentally ready for that. So it surprised Freed that the three of them exited the house and stood on the porch with its marble columns, and still nothing had been said.

"Freed," Llewellyn said with a fatherly smile, "why don't you be a gentleman and bring the car around for Laxus?"

"Uh!" He looked from his father to his boyfriend. Leaving them alone together … that was dangerous!

Laxus looked passive, and he assured Freed, "It's fine." If Llewellyn wanted to talk, he would rather Freed not be involved. He knew Freed's head was still lost in a high, and he wanted to keep him there for as long as possible. He waited as Freed reluctantly left to the garage. When finally they were alone, he said, "Yes, sir?"

"Was it dom-drop?" The question was whispered, although they were alone, yet it sounded like genuine concern for him.

Laxus shook his head. "It was something more. Forgive me if I don't wanna talk about it." He hoped that was not rude, but still firm enough to shut down any prying.

"You two worked it out, right?"

"For the moment." Laxus smiled to himself. "I think it's gonna work out."

Llewellyn was quiet, considering another question, looking distasteful to ask, but knowing he needed to say something. "About what we talked about a while back … at _the club_."

Laxus looked over sharply. At the club? That was when he asked for Llewellyn's blessing.

The man's eyes looked up coldly. "Are you still thinking about that?"

Laxus could not hold back a slight smile. "Yes, sir. In fact, we talked about it."

Llewellyn jolted and shouted, "You proposed?"

"No, we just … _talked_ … about the possibility."

"And?" he asked on edge.

"It's something we both agree we're not ready for at this time, but something we both want. Some day. Eventually."

He sank and looked aside. "I see."

Laxus heard the regret in those two words, and his eyes narrowed. "Will that be a problem, sir?"

Llewellyn shook his head at how ridiculous it was to want the best for his son and wish for his lifelong happiness, but also want Laxus to return to him. "Yeah, it would be, but only for me. It _won't_ be a problem for my son," he guaranteed.

"I guess that's the best I can ask for." Laxus looked out, wishing Freed would hurry with the car. The atmosphere was horribly awkward. Yet as a minute ticked by, he looked over at the business CEO. "Sir, if you don't mind me asking a personal question. Have you found another dom?"

Llewellyn choked up, to be asked that by the dominant he enjoyed the most. He had to gulp before answering. "Actually, not at the moment."

"I know a few. They're discrete, professional, they probably charge more than I did, but I think _you_ need it, if only so you can let go of _me_ and let Freed be happy."

Llewellyn hated to admit it, but that stung. Laxus really wanted him to give up, and although he kept trying to be mature about this, although he wanted his son's happiness, although he tried really hard to support these two, he knew that he had not yet surrendered that lingering hope of Laxus returning. He needed to get over it, and that meant finding a new person to be his dominant. As much as it hurt, Laxus was trying to help him out.

"That's … generous of you." He still felt miserable and ashamed of himself for clinging onto fantasies like this.

"I'll give you a few names."

"Laxus? Um … Freed didn't tell me everything, but he did mention a little, something about … I was a substitute for your father?"

Laxus flinched with old memories that now brought up disgust. "Damn, he told you that, huh?"

Llewellyn twisted his hands together. "If I … _helped_ you work through any issues … I'm glad."

Laxus looked down in shock. "Wha-!" Glad? He thought any client would feel cheated and used, to know what he did, why he did it, and that it truly meant nothing emotionally.

However, Llewellyn had an understanding face. "We all have our issues. I had my own, which is what led me to BDSM after years of vanilla marriage. I have to admit, you helped me get through some of that."

"O- … -kay?" He had no idea what that meant, and he figured he probably did not want to pry. "I hope that's good."

"So, if I in any way helped you … at least that's a little bit of a legacy, right?" he said wistfully.

Laxus was not sure if he liked the idea of Llewellyn leaving a _legacy_ in his life. That wasn't how it worked, but he figured that in order for this man to give up, he had to think there was a purpose to all those years, beyond his own sexual needs. So he opted to agree if it would help Llewellyn to move on.

"Yeah, sure."

Llewellyn looked satisfied with that. "Whatever is the issue with your father, I hope it resolves itself soon, and I hope it never leads to something like this again."

"I won't let it," Laxus muttered, tapping his foot as he waited impatiently for Freed.

"Good." Llewellyn walked in front of Laxus, and although he had to look up at the blond, the harshness in his face was instantly terrifying. "Because I don't _ever_ want to come home and see _my son_ crying in front of me again."

Laxus took a step back at the rage in those eyes. _Holy shit!_ He had not really thought about it until that moment, but he made not just _his boyfriend_ cry, but the son of an _extremely powerful and wealthy man_.

Llewellyn showed all the rage of a protective father. "I. Will. Hurt. You. Do I make myself clear, Laxus Dreyar?"

His low voice sent shivers through the blond, and he stuttered, "Y-yes, sir."

"Good!"

Laxus turned aside, shaken by how much fear this man could instill with just a look and a few words. He rubbed his face as his teeth felt like chattering. "Shit…"

"You only knew the submissive," Llewellyn warned. "You have no idea how sadistic I can be in the business world, and how protective I am over my children, the lengths I've gone to so I could shield them and make sure they had happy, _perfect_ childhoods. I will warn you only once. Don't you _ever_ make my son cry like that again, or I _will_ make you regret it."

Laxus had no doubt he would, too. "If I ever do make him cry, you have my permission to hurt me in any way you feel worthy."

"I'll remember that," he said lowly. "Oh, and Laxus."

"Y-yes?" he asked hesitantly, worried what more there might be.

Llewellyn's voice went right back to his normal tone. "Did you already have plans for Freed's birthday?"

Birthday? Wait, what? His birthday? Was it coming up? "I … n-no."

"Good. The family is throwing a surprise party. I want you in on it." He pulled out his wallet and withdrew two tickets, handing them to Laxus. "Make it seem like you're simply taking him to the theater, and we'll all be waiting. Even Liberty is flying back for it."

He stared down at the tickets to the opera house. "Oh. Right." His mind was still reeling. Birthday?

"Well, I'll see you at the Magnolia Opera House. Keep hushed about it for Freed, understand? Ah! There he is." He strode down the staircase to the drive circle.

Laxus shoved the tickets into his pocket, not heeding if they got a little bent. He tried to shake off the fear Llewellyn had instilled, but that man seriously did have a way of letting his presence linger. Laxus stepped past him and into the waiting Corvette.

"Freed, drive safely," Llewellyn called out through Freed's rolled-down window. "Visit once in a while, and don't be late to work on Monday. You have that meeting."

"Yes, Father." Llewellyn returned to the porch, and Freed rolled up the window. He glanced over as Laxus buckled his seatbelt. "Um, are you okay?"

"Y-yeah. Why?" He cringed that his voice was still unsteady.

Freed eyed him worriedly. "You're really pale, and I haven't even started driving." He glanced back to the porch and to Llewellyn waving them goodbye. "What did he say?"

Laxus scowled at himself. "Just some words of fatherly advice." He reached over and laid a hand on Freed's thigh, giving it a squeeze. "Freed, I'm not shitting around: if I fuck up and you're ready to cry, beat the _hell_ out of me."

"Wha- … No!"

"Trust me, it's better than what's awaiting me."

Freed's mouth dropped. "What the _hell_ did he say to you?"

Laxus shook his head. "Let's go home. You won't have to worry. I'm not going to make you sad ever again."

Freed pouted as he put the issue aside. He knew his father well enough. Intimidation was a tactic he had perfected. "Well, you better not!" he said haughtily.

"Heh! Yeah." He thought to himself, _Too scared to do that!_

As Freed drove, Laxus peeked at the tickets. They were for _Les Misérables_ in two weeks. Was that Freed's birthday?

He realized, he had never bothered to ask when Freed's birthday was. Here he was, thinking about a life-long commitment, and he did not even know the date of his birth!

Definitely he and Freed had a ways to go. It was too soon.

But some day. Eventually.

Laxus hid the theater tickets and turned up the flute music already playing. He settled in, ready for the long and sick drive back home.

**Next Chapter: "Master of the House"**

* * *

_**Audio drama**: chib. it/F4yGg1  
_


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